Threading the Needle
by MusicalWonder
Summary: The story of a girl from district 8 who experiences love, friendship and the hunger games.
1. Chapter 1: Eye Contact

Today I woke up early; my brother was thrashing around and talking in his sleep again. I had to get out so I padded my way towards the door, carefully creaked it open and slipped out only to trip on a loose spool of thread on my way out. Gauge didn't even notice.

Outside's getting a lot cooler now, soon they'll pull us all off the lines to start sewing fleece onto those new peacekeeper jackets. I love it when they do that, since all the material for their uniforms is white there's no dying to work be done and I can let my battered hands rest for a few days. All there is to sewing linings is running the sewing machines and making sure you go in a straight line. It's mind numbing work but I love when that first new batch of fleece comes in and rolls down the work line. It looks so soft and white and thick, I feel warm just thinking about it!

My coat's threadbare and will barely keep me dry this winter if it's as wet as the last one. I wonder if maybe we could save up for a new second hand one. So long as I don't end up wearing my brothers hand me down one again. The arms on all his clothes stretch out far past my hands and everyone knows that that went out of fashion years ago! I don't want to look like I'm fashion missing, like I'm poor, not if I'm going to walk through the square. Especially not if I'm going to walk past the carpenters.

A week or so ago, when mother was sick I ran to fetch some tea since a certain brother of mine had his girlfriend over and they took up about half the box making pot after pot and trying to "keep warm". Gross.

Anyways I was running late since there's a new kid in the dying room and she didn't know where to put away the dyes so of course I had o help her and I'm walking fast, trying to get there and back before it gets too dark since the peacekeepers question anyone out by themselves at night, especially if that person happens to be a girl. I got stuck behind this old truck full of upholstery ends.

Everyone's crowding around and pushing to see what's in the back since those kinds of things don't happen often and you can sometimes get a great deal. Since I'm small for my age, I have a hard time pushing through the swarming people. I look up, trying to see over this sea of bobbing heads and I see a boy in the brightly lit carpenter's window. His head is tilted back in laughter and I can see stark white teeth and brown hair shaking into his eyes, eyes that are staring right at me. For that brief moment it felt as though I was a needle, drawn towards him like a magnet. The crowd all but disappeared as I glided towards his chuckling figure... That is until I got shoved from behind by a big bald man and toppled head over foot. My leggings were ripped and as I brushed myself off and stood, I saw that he was gone. My heart fell, though it had no reason to and I made it through the crowd got the tea and came home.

I don't know why I'm so fixated on him or why I was so disheartened when I lost him. It was probably a combination of exhaustion, cold and some kind of illness. Still, I've avoided the store since then, taking the long way through the square to and from the factory. I wonder who he is though.


	2. Chapter 2: Questions

I'm staring at my warped reflection in the old mirror hanging in the bathroom. I'm trying to decide if I lived in the capitol, what I would change about myself. My hair, too curly, too in between colours, too uncontrollable? My eyes, too close together, too pale, too heavy lidded? My chin that points too much or my nose that juts out too long or my lips that are too small and barely pink? If I changed myself that much, would I still be myself? Would I replace my name, Angora Day, with something wild and beautiful to suite my new face? Am I the sum of my outward features or are they a reflection of me?

My brother Gauge starts beating at the thin white door. "Gora, hurry up! I need to get in there to fix my hair before work!" He's a shipper, working in the warehouse sorting the stunning fabrics and textiles we make for the Capitol. Gauge is forever complaining about how hard it is to have to haul heavy containers all day but at least he doesn't come home with hands that look blue or purple. That's what I do; I work in the dying room applying the fabulous colours to the clothes. It's not bad work but the rainbow hands are something I could live without.

"Seriously, Angora I will break this door down if you don't come out of there!"

Gauge is older than me by two years but his height makes it look like much more. He's got my same impossible spiralled hair but that's pretty much where the similarities end. His eyes are the dark brown most people in our district have and he inherited our mother's flat nose. I give my reflection a last half-hearted glance and push open the door, revealing Gauges massive frame in our cramped hallway. "Sheesh all that time and she still looks like she always does" he mutters as he pushes past me into the washroom.

I head the kitchen, questions about who I am and what that means swimming far in the back of my mind. Right now, the only thing I can focus on is getting to work on time, they dock you a pay if you're even a few minutes late. My mother is standing against the counter, her back to me and my father sits at the damaged wooden table, eating oatmeal and going on about the latest layoffs at work.

"It isn't right to take good, hard working men with families and people who depend on them and just throw them out on the street like they're nothing!" He's forever going on about the unfairness of the District and how someone needs to step up and protect the citizens, never outside our house of course but it's still unnerving. I worry that one day someone's going to hear one of his rants and call the peacekeepers. It happens all the time, one or both parents disappearing over night or ending up in the stocks. The peacekeepers are sure to meet any possible signs of rebellion with swift and brutal force.

"Now Burl, calm down," my mother tells him in a soft voice "Do you want the whole neighbourhood to hear?"

"Quite honestly, yes I do Lana. People need to wake up and see the injustices around them! Something needs to be done!"

"Yes but giving that old bat Mrs. Sherman upstairs a reason to report you won't solve anything."

I slid in, grabbing my bag from its hook by the door as I start rushing out. I hear Gauge whistling off key in the bathroom still and my parents murmur to each other as I exit, shutting the door tightly behind me. I love my family but they're just too much to take sometimes!

My walk to work by contrast is quiet. I like to stick to the side streets, avoiding the urban crush of my district the best I can. Often when I walk alone like this, I wonder about the people who came before us, the ones who built so many of our dilapidated buildings. They teach us about them is school of course, how they didn't listen to their governments and how there was fighting on every street, each person trying to get ahead of the other; that their governments couldn't control their citizens and let them do whatever they wanted. The idea terrifies me, how would you decide what to do without the guidelines set by the Capitol? They didn't even have districts back then! Everyone worked at whatever they wanted, no required hours at the factory! I can't even imagine it, all that freedom. Of course everyone breaks the law every now and again, but imagine if there were no laws to break! That's how they describe it in school anyways. Personally, I think they're fudging the truth a bit. Society couldn't possible function that way could it?

Either way, I don't see a lot of reason in questioning it. Our world has always been this way and will always be that way, no matter how much we complain they've has our number. The districts will always submit the Capitol, end of story. Wondering can't hurt though can it?


	3. Chapter 3: Silence

Sometimes, when my mind can't clear itself of thoughts and I lay in bed staring at the water stain on the ceiling that looks either like a dragon or an eruption of water depending on what you're looking for, I sneak out of the window and climb up the fire escape to the roof of our apartment building. That's the only place I've ever truly heard silence, no one screaming down the street, no machines whirring in the background. Silence. It's like a big blue blanket has covered the district and everyone's safe and warm and I forget whatever it was I worried about and just listen. It's like I'm the only one in the world.

The reapings are coming up soon. Everyone whispers about who they think will be picked, everyone nervous it'll be them. Our parents especially get tense around this time since Gauge decided to take tessera. This is his last year though of being of age so his name's in the bowl 28 times. They forbid me from taking it but I might sign up anyways, it's a pretty well sure-fire way to us warm and well fed over the winter.

It's the waiting that always gets me before the Reapings. The standing in beside all of my friends, my neighbors, people I know and work with, and waiting to see who doesn't have the odds in their favour. The second after another name is called, my shoulders relax and my stomach unclenches. Then I feel a wave of guilt, after feeling that rush of relief. How dare I feel that way about another person's pain? How can I try to be this good, helpful person if I can find such happiness in knowing that it's not me who's getting slaughtered this year? To know that it won't be my family who sees me suffer and die in front of all of Panem? I hate myself for feeling these feelings but I do. But every year I forget until the build up of anticipation starts up again.

The silence though, that's when I can let myself feel everything I hold back during the day. The worry, the sadness, the overwhelming sense of guilt and even the outrage against the Capitol for making me feel this way. That one's a secret though. I know dissent against the Capitol is foolish. I know what talk of rebellion and uprising gets you. I see those people strung up in the square by the peacekeepers. I know that's not my place.

My place is somewhere warm and full of sunshine, far away from cold, loud of the factories in District 8. There are birds there that fly from trees bigger than any apartment building I've ever seen! Fresh cool water would pool into a lake and the air would be scented with pine needles and fresh bread. This place is nothing like home with its dirty streets and crowded buildings. There is space and laughter and so much food that no one ever feels hungry. It's paradise and even though I know it could never exist, it's the best dream I've got. The problem is, when I come back from imagining it, I always feel a little let down by reality. That's the problem with dreaming, it can break your spirit when you remember it's not real…

What's real is the flu epidemic that's sure to hit when winter arrives. What's real is my cold fingers aching and empty belly growling as I dye cloth that I could never afford. What's real is the reapings and the terror of waiting for the names. What's real is my district so crowded and far from my dreams. What's real is the silence that's my only brief escape.


	4. Chapter 4: Friends

In the morning I go through the same routine. Get up, get dressed, try and tie my curly hair back from face, rush into the kitchen for a breakfast of lukewarm oatmeal or toasted bread, then race down the three flights of stairs to meet my friends Kilim and Zanella for our walk to work.

Kilim's a sweetheart, though you wouldn't tell by looking at him. He's tall as anything and crops his hair close to his head to keep away from the machines in the weaving room. We've been friends since before we were born; our mothers worked in the same factory sewing beads onto dresses for the women of the Capitol. His mother died two years ago the massive flu outbreak leaving Kilim's father to look after the three kids. My mother watches them often; when he and Kilim take extra hours at the factory to try and make ends meet. The youngest, Crin is my favourite. She has the same huge brown eyes as her oldest brother but hers are far less intense than his, more innocent and trusting like his were when we were younger. For her birthday last year Zanella and I went out and bought scraps from a vendor and sewed her a beautiful patchwork doll with two big button eyes and a long braid of black yarn hair. I remember how she danced around their living room with it, calling her Priscilla the Princess and building her a castle made of a blanket.

Zanella is one of the most creative people I know. The things she can do with a length of fabric and a needle astounds me every time. It was absolutely no surprise to any of us when she got recommended to become a designer. She's always on my case to dress up a little bit more or fix my hair so it's a little more stylish but I really can't be bothered with that stuff, nor do I have the money to devote to it. Zanella is the only child of the mayor's sister so her family's pretty rich and she can afford things like fancy hair ribbons and finger nail paint. She never holds it over us though, which is more than I can say for a lot of the other kids whose families have more than the rest of us. She just kind of drives me crazy sometimes with her "Angora, won't you let me fix your hair?" and "Is that really what you're wearing out?" What can I say? She's one of the most beautiful girls in our district, with long, shiny black hair and her perfect, perpetually flawless caramel skin. I'd be jealous of her if she wasn't such a cheerful addition to my life. Kilim's been totally in love with her since I introduced them when we were thirteen. Unfortunately, he's far from the only one who's interested, she's always got a new boy at her beck and call. She's nice to them all but she complains about it in private, what I wouldn't give to have her problems.

This morning I step out of my building with my hair flying out of its pins in direct defiance of how I tried to do it. Zanella just laughs and moves to fix it into something presentable. Kilim isn't there, which is getting increasingly routine; he stays so late at work that sometimes he sleeps there, not having enough time to race home and back. Zanella gets right into telling me about this fantastic idea she had on the way over here; fabric made of this material that shifts colour constantly but communicates with a person's accessories so you don't end up looking completely mismatched. Her bubbly words wash over me and I'm only sort of listening, thinking about all the stuff I've got to do when my shift ends.

I'm trying to plan a route home that'll take me by the market and the used clothes store when we turn a corner and see Ramie, Kilim's younger brother. He's a quiet little guy who keeps to himself mostly but now I see him with a group of other boys, hassling some poor young girl. She can't be older than six and she has that hollow in her cheeks that comes from more nights without dinner than with. The boys are tossing around her school bag and I can see where a book has fallen out, its pages spread out across the dirty cement. Ramie looks so unlike the little boy I know that I almost don't recognize him, he's laughing far too loud and trying to rip the bag open with the rest of them, like dogs fighting over a piece of meat. I stop suddenly, unsure of what to do. Should I confront Ramie, who's like my own brother and tell him off right now or wait until we see Kilim and tell him what his brother's been up to. It would break his heart for Kilim to know that despite all his hard work Ramie's still getting in with the wrong crowd but I can't let this go on. Just then, the girl erupts into tears, her tiny, pale face red with frustration and desperation. I drop my bag at Zanella's feet and storm over towards the group of troublemakers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shout at the boys

They leer and roll their eyes at me, not letting me spoil their fun. Ramie looks at me with contempt in his eyes and says "Nothing. We're just messing around, sheesh".

"Ramie Sauber, you will stop torturing that girl at once" I say it my most mature voice.

"Yeah?" another boy pipes up, squaring his shoulders as he glares up at me "An exactly how're you gonna make us?"

"You'll give that girl back her things or I'll…" I stammer, trying to think of a threat that'll make them back off. I realize that I'm smaller than some of them, though I've got at least two years on them all and they've all got that hard glint in their eyes boys can get from cruelty.

"You'll what?" the boy asks me, his chubby face pinched in hatred.

"You'll give it back or I'll make you" says a deep voice from behind my back. I whip around and find myself facing a tall boy my age. He's got shaggy brown hair swept just out of his steely grey eyes. He's wearing a faded plaid shirt over well worn brown pants and his arms are crossed in a position favoured by peacekeepers controlling a situation.

The boys all look up at him with expressions varying from shock to distain as the little girl runs. Her blonde hair hangs limply around her face as she wraps her arms around his knee and buried her tearstained face into the back of his leg. The boy cocked his head at the gang of children and said in a controlled voice "Now drop the bag and get out of here before I decide to make you".

The boys all scatter, leaving the small bag in the dirty street, papers spilling out of it. The boy studies me while he pats the girls hair, like he's unsure what to make of the situation. "Thanks," I say, my voice sounds smaller than I intended it to "I could've handled it myself though."

"Yeah," he replies his voice measured with a hint of sarcasm "I could see that".

"Are they gone?" a small voice asks from behind him. The little girl lifts her head and shines her bright blue eyes on me, then up at her saviour.

"They are," I answer, my heart breaking for her look of absolute terror.

"Thank you," she whispers and she darts out to collect her bag and school supplies.

The boy's gaze follows her "Why didn't you wait for me Calla? You need to know you can't just go off by yourself like that."

"But you were busy! And besides, I'm old enough to be able to walk myself to school!"

"Obviously not if you ran into trouble not a block from our door. Come on, you'll be late for class if we don't hurry," he smiled at her and took her hand."Thank you though," he said, turning back to me.

"No problem" I reply, my mind whirring from what just happened. He smiles, giving me a glint of white teeth against tan skin. He looks familiar but I can't place him anywhere and he's off before I have a chance to ask.

"Well that was… interesting" Zanella's says in a bouncy voice as she sashays over to me, my patched bag hanging off her sounder. "But really, we've got to get a move on if we don't want to be late!"

Later, when the lamps have long since been turned out and my room is illuminated by the pale glow of the stars that peak out from the clouds, I'll place his face. His twinkling eyes are the same that met mine that night in the square. He's the boy in the carpenters shop, the one I had fixated over. How weird, I think as I my eyes close and my head grows heavy, how weird that I seem to have gone my whole life without seeing someone and now I've seen him twice in a week. There's no time to dwell on this though as exhaustion overtakes me and I fall into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5: Laughter

**Authors note: Hey folks who're reading this story at home (just kidding, pretty sure I'm like the only one paying attention to this.) If you'd like to help me out a whole lot by reviewing I'd totally love you forever! I know my writing pretty poor and I want to get better so please and thank yous!** **Okay, back to the story.**

On the morning of the reapings, I wake up clutching the vague memories of a dream. The specifics are lost but I recall a snatch of pink sky and a plate overflowing with food. I let myself dwell on the happy feeling, not wanting to open my eyes for fear I'll lose it. For once in a fairly long time I'm calm.

At least until Gauge rolls over in his creaky bed next to mine and makes that loud snuffling noise he does when he's deep in sleep. Mournfully, I let my eyes adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the window. The snow hasn't come yet, which is reassuring. I won't have to deal with my thread bare coat today! In fact, from what I can see outside, it's shaping up be a perfect day, the kind we don't usually get this late in the year. Gauge rolls over again and I'm overcome with the sudden urge to pounce on him to wake him up so I do.

"Gah! Gora! What're you doing? Come back here!" he cries, blanket strewn across the floor leaving him exposed in his boxers and t-shirt. But I'm already speeding down the hall in my socks, laughing and inviting him to chase me.

"I'm not coming back, get up sleepy head!" I holler back to him as I slide into the kitchen. There's nothing in the pantry so I put on water for tea. Breakfast can wait until after the Reapings I suppose and mum and dad are always too nervous to eat anyways.

Gauge stumbles into the kitchen as I'm putting the kettle on the burner. "What's got you so full of pep this morning? Is it a boy? Did Kilim finally ask you out?" he asks me mockingly.

I roll my eyes and throw a rag at him, catching him off guard. "No," I reply "Sometimes I just wake up happy. Not everyone needs a significant other to be happy you know".

He chuckles and throws the cloth back at me. The reaping won't start until later this morning since we're towards the end of the districts, which leaves us a few hours before we need to be down in the square With no work today I can almost imagine how it must feel to be a Capitol citizen and have a whole day stretch out with hours for you fill with what you please.

"Do you suppose we should wake them?" I ask, jerking my thumb towards our parents door.

"Nah, let 'em sleep. Otherwise they'll just be in our hair," he answers "So what's your big plan for today that's got you all pumped up?"

"I'm meeting up with Kilim and Zanella. We haven't hung out much recently."

"Spectacular, so you'll be out of the house?" he asks, cocking his head to the side and giving me a conspiring look.

I roll my eyes again, knowing what he was getting at. "Yes, you and Nia will have the place to yourselves"

He smiles and picks up my bag from where I dropped it on the floor. "You'd better get goin' then, parents'll be up soon and you want to escape that if you can."

I nod and walk back to our room. My reaping dress is laid out from last night on the dented dresser. We're all required to wear our very best to the ceremony so I altered the dress I've been wearing for a few years now. It's dark green with sleeves that end at my elbows and little brown buttons down the top. I pull it over my head and tug it down to my knees, it's a little short. I look outside again and consider wearing tights underneath but then I remember I tore my only pair on a loose nail a few days before. Oh well. I grab my faded blue coat and head out the door, swinging my bag over my shoulder as I walk. Half way down the first flight of stairs I run into Nia. She looks beautiful as always in her pink reaping dress and she winks at me as we pass. For the hundredth time I wonder what she sees in my brother.

The day is as gorgeous as it looked from my bedroom. Sun filters down through the battered buildings and lands warmly on face. I breathe in and can almost imagine I smell pine trees on the air. If we have to be outside for the ceremony at least it'll be nice for it.

I start towards Kilim's apartment building, three blocks over. Already I know the scene I'll encounter when I get there; kids screaming, chasing each other through the crowded space; a pot most likely boiling over; the neighbours banging on the walls. I love going over there, the chaos is so perfectly choreographed that you feel as though you're part of some elaborate dance. My mind is focused on getting there and figuring out if I should have brought some tea with me when I turn the corner and almost walk straight into a group of peacekeepers.

They're three of them, leaning against the wall, their white uniforms slightly tinged with the dust that lines the streets. As soon as I round the corner each of their heads turns in my direction, following me. Their conversation seems to have come to an abrupt end and a pregnant silence hangs in the air. I almost stopped when I saw them but now I remember myself and pick up the pace a little bit. I can feel their eyes following me hungrily. There are stories, gossip really that you hear about these foreign men who come to our district to dominate us. Boys are taught early not to look them in the eyes and girls rarely go out alone for fear of ending up in a situation like I'm in. I pick up my pace as I hear them calling behind me.

"Hey, where're you goin' so fast?"

"Yeah, come hang out with us for awhile."

"You deaf or something?"

I tense as I walk as fast as I can, don't need to give them the opportunity to bust me for something stupid like running in the streets.

"Come back!"

The voice is behind me, retreating into the distance. Just another half block until Kilim's place. I slow my pace, shaking myself for being so stupid. That's another reason I take the back way, you're less likely to find yourself nearly trapped like that. My hands quiver as I push open the door to the building and run up the stairs. Just as I get to Kilim's floor, the door swings open, Lech and Ramie burst out of it pretending to shoot each other with finger guns. Lech lets out a shriek and their father hollers at them to take it outside. I let out an abrupt laugh at the sheer normality of it and let myself relax a little bit.

I walk in through the open front door and see Kilim's father Caird collapsed on the beaten orange couch. He lets out an exasperated sigh when he sees me and says "Those two will be the death of me you know".

I laugh because I know he doesn't mean it and then I hear swearing and pots banging. Caird and I exchange a knowing look and I head into the kitchen. Kilim is standing at the stove, frilly apron tied around his waist, a tray of toasted bread fallen on the floor at his feet. "Breakfast huh?"I ask, trying to suppress a laugh.

Kilim's decided to take up the cooking for his family since I told him he couldn't do it a few weeks ago but it really isn't going so well. I shake my head and step into the crowded room, taking the apron from him and wrapping it around my waist. "It's not as bad as it looks you know," he tells me, frustration in his voice, "at least I remembered to take the tray out this time!"

Of all the things my friend is fanatastic at; cooking is clearly not one of them. "It's okay sweetheart" I tell him mockingly, "Why don't you go lie down and rest and let someone who knows what she's doing handle this".

He narrows his brown eyes at me in a glare and crosses his arms but lets me take over. I quickly return the slightly singed bread to its tray and go to work righting the kitchen, smirking just a little bit. Crin walks into the room rubbing her eyes. Her black hair is sticking up comically and she's wearing an old pair of her brother's pyjamas which are about three sizes too big. "Gora, can you please make Kilim stop cooking? He's going to poison us all…"

"Hush up Crin the safety pin," Kilim jumps in still pouting.

"I told you not to call me that anymore!" Crin cries, her eyes wide with rage, "I'm not a baby!"

"And I told you not to mention my cooking to Angora so I guess we're even."

"We are so not! You call me that all the time and you said that-," Kilim steps towards her, scoops her up over his shoulder and walks out, Crin shrieking and giggling "Put me down!" she wails half heartedly, beating her tiny fists against her brother's strong back.

I smile and finish fixing the meal. The toast doesn't turn out to be that bad but I'd never admit that to Kilim. I pick up the tray and bring it into the living room where Caird sits. He thanks me and motions for me to sit down. Through the open window I can hear Kilim parading through the street shouting "Girl for sale! One bratty little sister for sale!"

Caird takes a bite of bread and pushes the tray over to me. My stomach's hollow so I accept gratefully, knowing how hard he and his son work for that food. "Such a jokester that one" Caird rolls his eyes but smiles.

"The only joke I can think of is his cooking" I reply, "He's great with the kids though."

"He is, keeps 'em out of trouble" Caird agrees.

I am reminded of the scene yesterday with Ramie and feel guilty not for sharing but I know this would just upset the old man. "Are you nervous about the reaping?" he asks, his full attention on me.

"Who wouldn't be? This is Gauges last year though so it'll be over soon for him at least."

Caird nods and says "I'll be grateful when that day comes for Crin. She'll be twelve soon enough and then the worry will sink in."

I hear her high laugh from outside. "You don't worry about the boys?"

"Those three can take care of themselves; Crin needs someone to be strong for her. That's why I'm glad you're around."

"Me?" I ask, puzzled.

"Since Tawny died, Crin's been around us guys far too much. She needs a girl to show her how a lady acts and I'm glad it's you."

"Well I'm not much of a lady" I reply, astonished. Could he really think of me as a role model for his daughter?

"Don't sell yourself short girlie," he chuckles, his dark eyes bright with joy. "I wouldn't even mind having you as a daughter-in-law."

I nearly spit my bread all over the sagging couch. Me and… Kilim? That's not even a possibility! Sure he's sweet and smart and stuff but he's my best friend! I look up at Caird, his smile edging up his ebony face.

"Don't look so upset," he grins at me, "I didn't mean it!"

We can hear Kilim and the kids racing back up the stairs and we share a private laugh. A part of me though is still trying to digest what just happened. Caird was just joking but I'm honoured that he thinks so highly of me.

Kilim bursts through the door, Lech hanging from his neck, Crin wrapped around his leg and Ramie pulling on his shirt. I can't help but giggle, he looks so ridiculous. "I think I picked up a few parasites outside" he declares loudly, dumping the kids next to me on the couch.

"One more ride Kilim pleeeease?" Crin cries out, gasping from laughter.

"Maybe after the reapings safety pin, we've got to get you all spiffed up!"

The kids groan and trudge off to get changed. Kilim smiles at me and asks if I'll wait and walk with them. I say sure and follow Crin in to tie her hair up with the fancy hair ribbon Ramie got her for her last birthday.

After that it's off to the reaping to stand in the shuffling crowd and wait for two unfortunate names to get called and then go home.


	6. Chapter 6: Reaping

To distract the kids as we walk to the reapings, we play a game with the kids were you have to rhyme every sentence. Crin and Lech are trying to come up with harder and harder words to rhyme with and Ramie ran off as soon as he saw some of his friends. Kilim's engaged in the kids' game and I contemplate.

Kilim's really not bad looking at all. He's got that sort of charming, over grown kid look that I've seen other girls go for. We're great friends too; I know he's always got my back. But could I see him in a different context? Could we ever fit together in a way beyond what we have now? It's ridiculous to even ponder but Caird set the thoughts in motion in my head and I can't make them stop. I'm wondering what it would be like to be a legitimate member of this family when someone jumps on me from behind and I fall down onto the cold cement.

"Gora! Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!"

Zanella untangles her long yellow dress from my green one and brushes herself off. "Silly girl, didn't you hear me calling?"

My head's kind of spinning as I accept her hand and right myself. "I must have been off in my own little world, sorry"

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds baby," she says with a smile "or you'll end up killing yourself!"

Kilim rushes over, laughing, "More likely you'll end up killing her Zanella! Did it ever occur to you that maybe people don't expect to get jumped on in the middle of the street?"

I brush myself off as Zanella rolls her eyes, "Just trying to keep it interesting you old stick in the mud."

"Do me a favour and be a little more boring" Kilim retorts as we start walking again.

They've always had this back and forth together, teasing one another and me but they don't really mean it. When we reach the square we mill about in the middle, trying to talk freely and cheerfully despite the rising tension. I see my brother with his arms wrapped around Nia, they look like the only two people in their universe. Behind him I spot my parents anxious faces, searching for me in the crowd. I give Kilim a quick hug and tell Zanella to wait right here until I get back so we can stand together at the ceremony before I take off, navigating my way through the throng of people.

My mother cries out in her harsh voice "Angora! You left before we could see you this morning!"

They're both wearing tense smiles that don't quiet reach their eyes and are holding hands tightly. My mother's hair, normally worn down is tied in a neat bun at the top of her head and she's wearing one of her old faded dresses. My father's beard looks a bit scruffy, like he forgot to trim it this morning. I try and give them my most reassuring smile, feeling guilty for running out on them earlier. "Sorry guys! I wanted to go help out Kilim with the kids before we had to go!"

My mother nods, knowing how much of a handful those three can be. "I suppose it was you who did Crin's hair; those boys never could tie a hair ribbon properly."

They pull me into a quick hug then push me off towards my section, telling me we'll have them over for dinner tonight. I can feel their hesitation to let me go and I'm reminded of my first reaping when I was twelve. My mother made such a fuss about my clothes and hair and my father dutifully walked me over my section but couldn't make himself let go of my hand. I remember the burning embarrassment of my parents' stark emotions in front of the other kids. Silently, I promise myself that if I ever have kids, I'll never embarrass them like that.

The mayor's just starting her speech about Panem's glorious history when I rejoin Zanella in our group. She outlines the historic importance of the rebellion and how the Capitol fought back against the ungrateful rebels and put them back in their place, inventing the games as a reminder of what happens to those who go against our government. I can see a lot of the other girls tuning out but I try and pay attention, knowing I'm quite likely to slip away into my own little world again. I search the boys section for Kilim, trying to pick him out from the bobbing sea of heads with no luck. I turn my eyes back to the stage as our escort Villard D'Art takes the microphone. He's a short man with brilliant green hair that stands on end and a pair of high orange boots, and I think he resembles a giant carrot.

"Let's welcome our fabulous mentors! Woof and Cecelia get up here!"

I watch as Cecelia takes the stage, Woof in tow. She's the same age as my parents and has the same patient eyes as mother as she helps up her fellow mentor. Woof is stooped with age and seems like standing is almost too much of a chore for him. He wavers but Cecelia is quick to grab onto his shoulders and holds him close to her, in almost a hug. Her children are the same ages as Crin and Lech and she's known around the district for being kind. I remember one year that I slipped on the thick ice outside of the factory and scrapped my knee up pretty bad. Many other people pushed past me, determined to get to work on time but she helped me up and wrapped up my leg in a bandage. Whoever's picked this year will be lucky to have such a sweet mentor. I clap along with the rest of the crowd as they both bow and take their seats at the back of the stage.

"And now, we'll pick our tributes for this year's Hunger Games!" Villard squeals, seeming inappropriately excited. Is this how all the Capitol citizens are I wonder?

His hand digs deep into the glass bowl filled with the girls' names of my district. My stomach tightens and I reach for Zanella's hand, my breath catching in my throat. With all those slips of paper in the bowl, the odds of mine being picked are astronomical but I still always get this same fluttery feeling like I'm going to pass out right before the name is called.

He seems to be taking forever in selecting this year's unlucky victim and I focus instead on breathing evenly. I close my eyes and tell myself it'll be alright, I won't get picked. I can almost feel the worry leaving my body when Villard finally lifts his hand up and opens the small piece of paper.

"Angora Day" he calls out, his voice piercing the audible silence. My heart drops down to my toes and I feel the blood drain from my face. I've been reaped.


	7. Chapter 7: Partner

Past tributes from my district whip through my head as I stand, hearing them call my name. I remember those who broke down crying like I worry I might do now. There were those who walked up straight and proud, like they knew this day was coming. Some tried to run away but the peacekeepers always caught them. Which would I be? This moment, broadcast all over Panem, is pivotal.

"Angora Day?" our escort calls out once again, a tone of annoyance adding to his ridiculous accent.

Zanella releases my hand from her suffocating grip and gives me a little push, enough to shake me out of my trance. I step out of my group, a line clearing for me as I walk towards the elevated stage. Or at least I think I walk. My head feels like it's swimming and I'm only vaguely aware of my feet moving below me. Peacekeepers come and pull me by my elbows up the steps, my foot catches on the top one and I almost trip.

"You're Angora?" asks Villard, he gives me a look like he means to look down at me but he can't since we're the same height.

I give a quick nod, trying to compose myself. This is the first glimpse the other victors will have of me and I can't let my weakness show. He looks like he barely registers it and digs his hand into the boys' names. I don't understand how he can look so bored while sentencing us to death. Isn't that what they delight in in the Capitol?

Again everyone tenses, the whole district collectively holding their breath; worrying this will be the moment they lose their son, their brother, their friend. The silence is pregnant with fear as Villard fishes out the name that will join mine in these games. After what seems like far too long, he again dramatically extracts a thin white strip of paper and snaps it open.

I have barely time to hope that it's not Gauge or Kilim when he reads out the name, "Cadman Livolsi!"

The crowd erupts into the same murmurs I suppose they made when I was chosen, though I can't remember hearing anything. I hear a child burst into tears somewhere near the back. Then he steps up.

He takes long, sure strides towards the stage, his back ridged, his shoulders squared. The crowd parts, but not like they did for me, where it looked like they were clearing the way for a diseased patient. It reminds me of an old story my mother told me when I was young, about a man who parted the very sea. He looks like royalty as he swings himself up the steps, brushing his brown hair off his face. As he passes me I can make out defined cheek bones and a strong chin. I don't believe it. The same boy who I've somehow gone my whole life without seeing and now I've not only seen him three times but on this, the day we get reaped for the games? Villard certainly does not give him the same distained look he gave me.

"Cadman Livolsi?" he asks, eyes drinking him up.

"Me," comes the easy reply with a small wave at our escort.

Villard stares for just another second too long before turning back to the district and announcing, in a voice that seems like he's trying imitate Claudius Templesmith, "District 8, I give you your tributes for the 68th Hunger Games!"

People clap politely, knowing they haven't got much of a choice with the peacekeepers around. I find my brother in the crowd and our eyes meet. He looks devastated, like the world just fell to pieces around him. I don't dare look for my parents, I know they're out there with worse looks on their faces and I know I won't be able to hold it in if I see them. Right now more than anything I need to appear strong.


	8. Chapter 8: Goodbye

After that people dissolve out of the square pretty quickly, off to celebrate another year their children are safe from the games. I can hardly blame them; I know I would be too if it wasn't me.

Peacekeepers whish us inside the justice building and down a long corridor with a worn red rug that ends in two doors. Right, the goodbyes. I'd never really thought about how the tributes must face these, knowing that they're going to be sent off to probably die. I bet many promise they'll come back, assuring their families and friends that they'll somehow beat the odds and come out alive. I'm not sure I can do that, lie because I can't possibly have that kind of confidence in myself. An hour has never seemed to stretch out so long in front of me, yet be so terrifyingly short.

First come my parents, Gauge in tow. They've both got tear stained faces but try to shape their expressions into brave smiles for me, Gauge stands back in the doorway as we say our goodbyes.

"Angora my baby, Angora," My father croaks as he flings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his jacket. I try and memorize his smell, brown sugar and shaving cream, with a hint of cinnamon.

"Dad, it'll be okay," I sigh, nuzzling my head into his shoulder. I try to impart some kind of hope in him.

I lift my eyes to my mother expectantly as my father unwillingly releases me. Her face is neutral but I can see tears dotting the edges of her eyes. Something inside of me almost breaks when I see her looking so sad.

"Do you know why we named you Angora?" she asks her voice barely above a whisper.

"Why?"

"In the time before people used to be able to afford splendid materials, things you and I could only dream of," she voice grows stronger as she speaks. "There were dresses made of real silks that felt like milk along your skin and fabrics that could stretch for yards before growing taut but that could fit inside of a handbag. Those people used to wear the furs of animals, not regenerated furs like we process today but honest to goodness animal skins. One of the softest and most expensive was made from a special type of rabbit. This fur was the softest, purest material, costing a fortune for just a length."

"So why did you name me after that?" I ask, my voice sounding dreamy and lost.

"When I held you in my arms for the first time, you were the purest thing I'd ever seen with your dewy skin and your big pale blue eyes that even then seemed to be lost in a dream. Angora was the only name that could fit that innocence."

I almost lose composure thinking of my mother holding me as a child. I can remember when I was younger and she used to sit with me on her lap and stare into my eyes, like they had all the answers to life's problems swirling within them.

"Don't lose that part of you Angora," she whispers, words focused like she's imparting the meaning to life to me. "Don't let them take that innocence from you. You're better than that."

She digs into her brown bag beside her and my father chokes on tears a little bit as she pulls out the most beautiful scarf I've ever seen. It's a rich bronze inlaid with threads of gold and silver. My mother holds it out between us, both of our eyes captivated by the breathtaking cloth.

"I want you to take this baby, as your token" her voice is still hushed, but in a less urgent way now.

"Where did you get this? I've never seen anything so…"

"It's been passed down since almost the time before, when the people all had money. Our family has hidden this forever and now it's your turn to carry it."

"I couldn't! What if it got ripped or lost in the arena! Mum, I could never…"

"No!" Her voice holds the stubborn determination I know well from her arguments with my father, I know it's hopeless to protest.

"We love you so much Gora" she says as her and my father rise. They pull me between them for one last hug then release me, tears stinging at both their eyes.

They leave and Gauge comes and sits down next to me. His giant frame takes up much of the couch but I don't complain.

"You'll be alright sis, you know that?"

I sigh, trying to shake the emotions our parents brought on. "And what makes you say that huh?" I ask a little too sharply. I don't want him to lie to me. Not when this could be our last conversation.

He wraps his boney arm around my shoulders and pleads with me with his eyes. "You're so much stronger than you'll ever know. There's that spark of fight, that undying hope that I know is inside of you Gora. That's how I know you'll be alright in the arena. You've got too much spirit to be brought down."

He taps my chin with his finger, the way he used to when we were younger and I'd some crying to him with some world shattering problem. I feel a smile bloom across my face and for a moment, the overwhelming sadness lifts. I shake my head conspiratorially. "That's just a nice way for grownups to say you're stubborn" I joke, on the verge of tears.

Gauge laughs a little and his smile sets something inside me back to normal. He'll be alright my big brother. No matter what happens in these games, he's going to come out fine.

"Hey, take care of mum and dad for me okay?" I tell him, trying to get it all out of the way before our time is up.

"I'll make an effort, they'll be fine though" he replies, though we both know this is only a half truth. Our parents will survive but at what cost to themselves?

"Yeah well still, take a break from makin' on Nia once in a while and check on them will you?" It's much easier to talk to him this way than to try and sound serious.

"Oh you did not just say that little sister!" Gauge lungs at me, tickling me between my shoulders and my neck until we've both fallen off the crowded couch on to the faded rug.

I'm close to shrieking with laughter when we hear the door creak open to reveal Zanella, Kilim and his family. We quickly compose ourselves for one final hug then a too brief "Goodbye I love you."

Caird nods at my brother as he ushers in the kids into the room. I take a seat back on the stiff backed couch and Crin crawls up into my lap, laying her head on my collar bone. She plays with the buttons on my dress while Lech sits at my feet, leaving the remaining spot on the couch for his father. Caird sits down, his face grim. Zanella and Kilim wait in the doorway, the room being too small to cram us all in.

"Are you leaving us?" Crin asks, still fixated on the buttons.

"I am sweetheart. For awhile"

A pause, Crin twists one button around in her tiny hand, then in the smallest voice I've ever heard she asks "Like mommy did?"

My heart breaks in two and I hug Crin as close as I can. A tear runs down my cheek as I say in a strangled voice, "No Crin, I promise I'll come back."

I relax my hold on her a little and she lifts her head, giant brown eyes swimming with tears. "Really?" she asks, her voice sounding more reassured.

I hold up my hand to hers, "pinkie swear".

Caird pulls her off my lap as he stands, giving me a long look. "I meant what I said this morning," he says in a strong clear voice. "You take care of yourself in the arena okay?"

He pats me on the shoulder and Lech stands up and gives me a hug. "When you come back," he says, "I'll back you a cake!"

I ruffle his short curly hair and shoo him out of the room.

Kilim and Zanella finally enter the room, both hollow imitations of the people I'd been with this morning. Zanella forces a smile but Kilim doesn't even try his mouth remains a thin line.

"Think about it this way," Zanella starts babbling, "You'll get to see all of the beautiful fabric we make in action! All the people and parties and dancing, I'll bet it looks fabulous! I hope you get a good designer, someone who'll make you up fantastically! I almost can't wait to see what they come up with for your costume, it'll surely be exquisite. There'll be your interview of course, with Ceaser Flickman. Maybe you'll even get to meet President Snow! I wonder if-"

"Zanella!" cries Kilim, shooting her a frustrated look, "Shut up! Don't you realize Angora's going there to fight to the death? This isn't so kind of vacation! Stop blathering!"

Zanella looks aghast at his outburst and for once it looks like she doesn't know what to say. We're all silent as they exchange looks. A peacekeeper raps on the door, telling me my time's up.

Zanella pulls me into a quick hug and says that she'll be watching me. She heads out of the room as Kilim pulls me into a giant bear hug. "You'll be alright Gora, you just have to be" he whispers, his hot breathe tickling my ear.

He pulls a bent envelope out of his coat pocket and hands it to me. "Read it on the train okay?"

Then he's gone. I'm left standing in this alien room by myself and a wave of sadness washes over me. That was possibly the last time I'll ever see my family and my friends. As I pick up the scarf and loosely drape it around my head a wave of sadness hits me. I leave my home forever today, and I may never come back.


	9. Chapter 9: Prep

**I know this has been late coming but I like died last week. Reviews please and thank you?**

The glass in the window is cold against my face. We left District 8 about two hours ago and all I could do was stare out the window and watch my home disappear. After , I retreated to what they told me was my room and watched the landscape change. First, the sprawling metropolis of my district was replaced by tall pine trees; they were like something out of a textbook. I mean, they told us there were trees like this in other districts but I never really imaged the size of them! I remember the scrawny, thin trees that hid on the outskirts of town, they're nothing compared to the majesty of this forest.

There's a knock on the door. "I'm coming in!"

It's our escort, the short capitol man with strange green hair. "The prep team will be ready for you," he gives me a once over then resigns himself in distaste. "And not a moment too soon" he adds, not quite under his breath.

My head bounces against the window pane as we go over a bump. More capitol people, great. I can imagine what Kilim would do if he were here with me, mocking their accents and joking to make me feel better. I smile as I picture his elongated form next to my annoying escort as Kilim tells him to back off and let me breath! But then my heart falls as I remember I've just said my final goodbye to my friends.

"Up! We've got to get working on you girlie!" Villard chirps at me, like a shrill bird. He grabs me by the elbow and tries to force me out of my chair. I slump, determined not to be overpowered by this tiny man.

"What are you stupid? I know you're from the districts but you should be able to follow simple commands! Up!" He tugs harder, straining against my will power to remain in my seat.

My head scrapes against the windows frigid metal latch and I feel the skin rip across my forehead. "What the hell are you doing?" I hear a voice cry angrily from the hallway.

It's Woof and Cecelia crowding the doorway. Her eyes are two giant brown orbs, frozen in shock and her mouth a sustained, surprised 'O'. Woof's stooped frame seems taller and his eyes are fixed squarely on our escort; his thick eyebrows drawn down in a fierce expression. Villard quickly releases his tentative grip on my arm and brushes himself off, as if I'm covered in dust or germs. "I…well… the stylists were…" he stammers, trying to explain away the situation.

"I suggest you worry less about the stylists' needs and more about our tributes" Cecelia says in a cold, hushed voice. She tilts her head to the side, indicating he should take him leave. Villard scurries out, pausing to shoot me a nasty look.

"Are you alright?" Cecelia asks in a tentative voice. She reaches out and brushes her finger tips above the scratch on my forehead.

I nod, trying to put on a brave face. Again I'm glad this kind woman is my mentor.

Woof steps from behind her and offers me a pale hand. I take it and feel the soft papery skin as he guides me out of my chair. The last of my grandparents died when I was young and I can't help but marvelling at how old he looks. People don't generally get this aged looking in back home, even though we have better medical care and food shipments than some other district do. I give him a timid smile as we file out into the brightly lit hallway. I silently follow them down the hall and through another door.

Woof stops and turns to Cecelia, "I'll go fetch the other one." His voice is strong despite his outwards appearance.

Cecelia nods and he goes though an adjoining door. We continue down the hall with Cecelia occasionally glancing at me. She asks me about where I lived back in the district and I describe our decrepit building a few blocks off from the square. Cecelia smiles and tells me she had a friend once who lived near there.

We reach the end of the hallway where facing two doors. Cecelia puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me a smile that wraps me up in a warm blanket. She's so much like my mother, which breaks my heart and comforts me at the same time. "How do you feel about this?" her voice has a hushed quality to it.

"I'm… nervous," I try to put my feelings into words. "Does it hurt much?"

"A little, but you'll be fine. If you need me, just ask one of the attendants and they'll come get me okay?"

I nod and she ushers me through the gleaming door. Inside the room is a pale baby blue. The walls are lined with silver and white counters with enough drawers that I could probably fit every piece of clothing my family owns into one section. Everything gleams with the same silvery hue as the door.

I hear a giggle and notice for the first time I'm not alone. I cock my head at the crew assembled in front of me, confused. They're all from the Capitol judging by their odd appearances but what could they be waiting here for? Suddenly I panic, wondering if this is a surprise interview. My mind goes blank as one of them steps forward.

"Won't you take a seat?" He gestures towards a cushy looking, navy chair in the centre of the room.

The man's skin sets me off guard; it looks like it's inlaid with thousands of tiny pulsing lights. He changes from lavender to pea green as he lifts his eye brows at me and gestures towards the seat again.

As I sit I ask, "Who are you all exactly?"

"Oh!" the man squeaks, his accent slightly unnerving. "I'm Evander! This is Tahlia," he gestures at a tall woman with feathers for hair, "and Ceil," a bored looking woman covered in polka dots steps forward.

Tahlia tentatively steps forward and extends her long fingers to mine. I think her face is too full eagerness for her to be from the Capitol. Still confused, I lightly grasp her hand in my and she pumps it up and down, large purple eyes searching my face.

"Okay but… Why are you here?" They don't seem as scary as they did before but I can't imagine a reason why these people would be here on my train.

"We're your prep team silly!" Tahlia exclaims with a look of wonder on her face. She studies me with the same kind of concentration I've seen on my mother's face as she works to carefully repair a sock.

"Prep team? Prepping for what?"

Evander and Tahlia laugh and start pulling things out of drawers. Ceil lightly takes my arm and guides me behind a long white curtain and tells me to undress. I do, not wanting to disrespect these people. The cool air pricks goose bumps up and down my pale skin. I hug my arms close and step out from behind the fabric.

The chair has been folded down into a padded table and Tahlia points, indicating I should sit down. It reminds me of a few years ago during the influenza outbreak when people were dying in droves and the Capitol sent down some doctors to inoculate us. They had seemed cold and inhuman compared to the warm, homey healers I was used to. They shuffled us along like cattle; pulling us each out of class or work one by one, testing us, injecting us then sending us right back out. The doctors had come to late though and I'm reminded of Kilim's mother who died in the outbreak. My heart falls and I remember home again. I wonder what Zanella would think of all this. I wonder if Kilim would have gone as unquestioning as me. I wonder if my family is still safe and warm and if they're thinking of me too.

I sit on the springy edge of the table, feeling uncomfortable. Evander graciously hands me a large fluffy towel and I wrap it around me middle, feeling a bit less exposed.

"This'll sting," Ceil says with all the warmth of those capitol doctors back then.

I lie back and they pour a thick, pungent liquid over most of my body. It feels like tiny pins are pricking into my skin. I close my eyes and listen to them yammer on about themselves. Tahlia tells me this is her first games and she's so excited to be picked for a fashionable district like mine. She distracts me with questions about dying and weaving and I'm grateful for her filling the silence.

Later, after they've had me bathe in various liquids, I'm allowed to dress in a pink robe and take my seat. They paint my nails in a pearly almost pink and buff them until they shine like polished pebbles.

"How long until we reach the capitol?" I wonder aloud.

Evander glances over my shoulder from where he's pinning my hair and tells me we'll be there by evening. They settle back into their jobs, each twirling or buffing or painting or shining while filling my head with gossip from their lives.

Finally they step back and tell me I'm done, handing me a pale blue dress to slip over my head. The fabric is silkier than anything I've ever owned and I try to calculate how much the buttons much cost. My stomach groans and I suddenly realize how hungry I am. I can't recall if I've eaten since we left the district or not. They chuckle and guide me out the door and down another confusing set of hallways.

We enter a rich looking dining room to find everyone already assembled around the table. The dishes are fragrant and still piping hot. I catch my fellow tribute with his head bent over a steaming bowl or orange noodles.

"Sorry!" Cecelia pipes up from the edge of the table. She throws her napkin down and stands up to greet us. "We should have waited."

I smile, enjoying how mannered and refined she seems. "It's not problem," I respond, "I guess I just took longer to prep than he did."

Cadman still doesn't look up from his food and we all get onto eating. The food is unbelievable, melting on my tongue with flavours I've never imagined before. Halfway through the meal the windows suddenly go dark, as if we'd driven into a blob of black ink.

"What's happening?" I desperately try to comprehend what could have gone so suddenly wrong.

"We've just entered the tunnels" Woof offers, his hand reaching for his wine glass. "We'll be in the Capitol soon."

The Captiol. I'd almost forgotten amongst all the distractions where we were going. I lose my appetite and watch outside the window.


	10. Chapter 10: The Capitol

The city shines like nothing I've ever seen before. The sky looks empty, like the stars have all been dragged down here and shoved behind pretty coloured glass.

I close my eyes but I can still see the ghosts of the lights imprinted on my lids.

Barely anyone else seems to notice the brilliant scene outside the windows. They've all gone back to their meals, scraping shining silverware against gleaming dinner plates.

Absentmindedly, I begin to pick at the seam of my napkin as I watch the city swish past at a blur of shapes and colours. Everything here seems like it was taken from some child's wildest dreams and transplanted into reality.

As the train slows the other members of my party rise, leaving Cadman and I sitting. The boy it still focused on the food, I don't even think he's looked up since I sat down. His loss at missing this fantastic view. My mind tells me to soak up all of this glamour while I still can, there won't be much to spare in the arena.

Woof offers me his arm as the train jolts to a stop and I take it, though I think it's to steady him more than me. We travel in pairs down the long hallway again to an open hatch in the middle. I take in a breath and make my descent into the Capitol when I suddenly remember the scarf!

Frantically I pivot around, releasing Woof's arm and smacking right into the wall of nicely pressed shirt behind me. Cadman stumbles back, shocked by my sudden turn. "My scarf! I need to go back for it!" my voice sounds desperate, even to my own ears.

An attendant steps down, eyes locked on me. His skin is tinged pink and his blonde hair is carefully cropped laying flat against his head. He holds out a long arm, my scarf clutched tightly in his hand. Relief floods me and I give him a small smile as he hands it to me. "Thank you", I sigh taking the beautiful fabric. The attendant nods and walks away while I hug my token to my chest. It smells faintly like tea and dust; like home.

I turn around and notice everyone in our small group staring at me. Well almost everyone. Cadman stares resolutely at the sky line visible just behind our train. What's up with him anyway? As I head back towards the others I wonder if maybe I've done something to earn his disregard. I search my memory of everything from this morning through to now. We haven't exchanged even a word I don't think. Maybe he's just upset about the reaping? I remember my other encounter with him; he didn't seem like this then. It doesn't really matter either way, it's not like we're meant to be nice to each other. We've been sent to this sparkling city to be paraded for their enjoyment then forced to slaughter each other. Friendship not included.

By this point we've been whisked into a pastel hover car along with our mentors and were off. Cecelia places her warm hand on mine and I force out a smile for her. Woof and Cadman were staring out the window together silently. "We should probably begin to discuss your plan for the arena."

I nod tightly, trying hard to commit every word to memory. Her voice is all business now but with the same sweet undertones as always. "What are your strengths?" she asks.

"I… I'm not sure I have any…" I sputter out, trying to pick out something. There's nothing I'm particularly good at that I think is useful.

She laughs her face lighting up for the first time since we left the district. "Well you're modest, that's one. I'm sure we'll figure something out in training. You'll meet the other tributes soon and then we can talk about alliances with their mentors. How about him though?" She points at Cadman, quietly conferring with Woof in the corner.

He brushes his dark brown hair out of his face as he listens intently to the old man's advice. From where I sit, the lights of the capitol light up his eyes; adding twinkles and making them dance. He dips his head closer to Woof, casting a shadow across half his face. The half I can make out looks strong and defined like someone who grew up quickly and independently. Again I wonder how I've missed meeting him or at least seeing him for so long. He seems like exactly the kind of boy Zanella would drag me out to meet on a night off, claiming I need to add some excitement to my life.

But I remind myself that we're not in District 8 anymore and different rules apply. Maybe back there we could have a civil relationship but here we somehow started out on bad terms. I doubt that Cadman would want an alliance with me.

I shake my head at Cecelia, "I don't really think that would be a good idea."

She nods understandingly. "That'll be all right. Alliances are something we can work out later." She gives my hand a slight squeeze in hers. "Oh! It looks like we're here!"

The hover car gracefully comes to a stop and the door swings open with a hydraulic hiss. We step out and I drink in the immense building with wide eyes. It's made of glass cut into thousands of faucets catching the late evening glow of the city around it. Mentally I strain to compare it the buildings back home. Much bigger than any apartment complex; it would dwarf the justice building; not even the factories could compare to the sheer size and grandeur of it.

We enter through doors that swing open for us by themselves. Are people so lazy in the Capitol that they can't be bothered to open their own doors? Inside is no less fascinating than outside, with the glass windows acting as bright translucent mirrors. The hall we enter into is much taller than it is wide; I crane my neck upwards to watch as a glass elevator shoots up several stories to deposit its occupants. We walk towards the ornate chrome doors and Cecelia presses a large silver button causing the elevator to shoot down and stop abruptly at our floor. Two gleaming doors fling out of the way as we take our places in the glass chamber.

Every surface is cleaner than anything I've ever seen, even back in the factories where we're all required to keep out work spaces spotless to avoid damaging any fabric that comes through. The metal doors reflect our little group back exactly as we are without the bumps and cracks of my mirror back home. I stare out the window as we rapidly rise, worried for a short moment that the glass is no longer there since it's so clear. I place my hand against the cool surface to steady myself as we shoot up into the air faster than anything I've ever experienced. My head suddenly feels light and dark spots form on the edges of my vision. Then the world tips sideways as I unceremoniously fall to the floor of the elevator.


	11. Chapter 11: Tributes

"Angora?"A voice calls from somewhere above me. It's soft and high, like fluffy clouds. The voice pleads, "Angora sweetheart wake up."

Another voice joins the first, low and gravelly. "She'll be fine Cecelia, just give her a moment to recover from the ride."

"Why do they have to have that stupid thing?" the first voice wonders aloud. She sounds annoyed.

"You know as well as I do that it's the look, not the practicality that matters here."

I shift my shoulders and move my head slightly.

"Still, sometimes I wonder if… Oh! Look there she goes! Angora! Angora you're alright sweetie"

Slowly my heavy eyelids flutter open and I find myself lying on the cold elevator floor. Woof, Cecelia and Cadman are all staring down at me with varying degrees of worry on their faces, even Cadman though he looks more confused than anything.

I carefully prop myself up on my elbows and lift my head but the world swings around again and I steady myself. "What happened?"

Cecelia gives me a comforting smile. "You fainted sweetheart; the elevator ride must have been just a little too much."

"Not to worry," Woof adds, "You're not the first tribute to get a little throw off by the thing." He chuckles to himself as he bends down to help me up. I take his wrinkled hand and pull myself up.

I blush, embarrassed at fainting when no one else seems bothered at all. We don't have elevators back home but I still should have been able to control myself better. The machine beeps and a small light blinks on. "We'd better get going then," Cecelia says, "Someone's waiting."

We file through the doors, Woof and Cecelia first then Cadman and I following silently. We step out into a thickly carpeted hallway, coloured in muted greens and silvers. Our mentors lead us through a large metal door and into a large living room of sorts. We walk down the steps into a sunken area with several couches all facing the Capitol skyline.

Cecelia turns and faces us, "We thought it would be best for you to see the other reapings, so you know what you're up against."

She gestures towards a sleek, modern looking couch and Cadman and I sit down on the far ends; her and Woof in the middle. An attendant comes and hands her an oddly glowing panel, oblong and bright silver. She thanks him and punches a few of the buttons. Suddenly, the skyline is replaced with a giant seal of Panem which fades into a shot of President Snow. He sits behind a large wooden desk with official looking papers in front of him. Staring straight into the camera he says, in that deep, very precise tone he takes up in interviews, "Let the 68th Hunger Games begin."

The screen cuts to the first reaping, in a square far better maintained than our own. District one. Their escort hops up onto the stage and reads in a disturbingly high voice "Saba Debush." A girl glides onto the stage, movements fluid and watery though she can't be more than fourteen. Next comes her partner, a volunteer who has to be a career by the looks of him. "Obert Freling." He glares straight at the camera, like he's trying to threaten us through it.

They fade to district two where the girl breaks down crying and has to be brought to the stage by the peacekeepers. The boy standing next to her is lanky, with a blank look on his face like he's trying to keep his emotions in check.

Next comes three with a fidgety twelve year old who seems unaware of what's happening as she mounts the stage. She twirls her blonde hair around a finger while staring off into the distance. Her partner is also young and pukes on his way up the stairs.

Then four, where not one but two volunteers surprise the audience. Meena Nozick and Garron Beaudette mount the stage nodding at each other as they're introduced. Their confidence frightens me along with Meena's size. She's tall with enough muscle that I'm sure she could squish me like a bug.

Five is less intimidating, the girl seems fairly forgettable, with a mousey appearance. However, the boy takes off running when they call his name. I always wondered about that, why they ran. Where did they think they were going to go? Even if they could somehow evade the peacekeepers I'm sure are lining the district, there's not many places you can hide within the fences that they won't find you. Do they imagine they can outrun the peacekeepers and make it out into the wild? Are they even thinking at all? Either way, he's caught quickly and brought kicking and fighting to the stage where he is restrained flanked by large men.

In six Latila Rathbun saunters up the stage all smiles and suggestive looks. I instantly dislike her and wonder how much is an act for the cameras and how much is really her. The boy seems alright, silent and tall with a noble chin and scruffy hair that falls in his eyes.

Seven is uneventful. A large girl who crosses her arms and stands squarely in the centre of the stage. Someone breaks into sobs when boy is called and a pained look crosses his face as he lumbers up the stage. All three of them, the escort and the two tributes, are large and powerful looking.

The screen cuts from them to reveal a familiar square filled to the brim with people. As the camera quickly pans over the crowd I search to find my brother, my parents, Kilim, Zanella, anyone from back home that I recognize. But the image is over too fast and we rewatch ourselves be reaped. Again Villard calls my name and I try to see my reaping just as I saw the others. I look terribly small, especially when Cadman joins me on the stage. This will be the first glimpse Panem and my fellow tributes get of me and I fear that I hardly leave an impression. I wish I was tall like Gauge or strong like Kilim or beautiful like Zanella, then maybe I'd catch the attention of sponsors. Silently I congratulate myself on not crying or embarrassing myself otherwise. It's worse to be known as the girl who couldn't handle her reaping than to be unknown.

After our scene there is nine, with a sable skinned pair of skinny tributes stand side by side each looking devastated and smaller than I. Then ten with a girl who seems to be missing an eye and a boy who looks more like a man. In eleven, a pair of siblings are reaped; at least that's what I assume. Avila and Nalin Coury share not only a last name but have the same large grey eyes and wiry black hair. Finally twelve, with a beautiful girl with pinned blond hair and a scruffy looking boy who can't be older than sixteen.

That's it. These are the people who I'll be trapped in the arena with, fighting to make our way out. I close my eyes and try to analyze them all, predicting strengths and weaknesses and trying to pick out allies. But I can't. There are just too many. Twenty-four of us tributes, some small, some large, some terrifying and some harmless; all sentenced to the same fate. Twenty-three to die and one to live. And the odds are that one won't be me.


	12. Chapter 12: Stylists

Cadman's the one to break the silence after the final tributes from twelve are replaced by the Capitol seal. "So that's it?" he asks, "Those are all the other tributes?"

Woof nods at him. "Well then that's that. Should we start to talk alliances now or wait until we start training?"

"You should really wait," Cecelia pipes in as she draws an arm around my shoulder, trying to include me in their conversation, "Unless there's someone you feel particularly for or against there's no point in picking until you meet them."

"Right," Cadman nods and his gaze drifts back towards the seal, slowly fading as the skyline comes back up in front of us.

After a quiet moment, Villard bursts in through the double doors at the back of the room. He seems more in his element as he does a half skip, half saunter over to us. "Your stylists are waiting outside, they want to get a good look at you before tomorrow."

Cecelia rises and turns to us. "How about we meet them over dinner? Who's hungry?"

I follow her lead, helping Woof out of the couch. An attendant hits a button on the wall and it slides open, revealing a neatly set dining room. Two people are sitting opposite each other, sipping a deep red liquid out of long, fragile looking glasses. When we enter they both turn their heads and greet us.

"Angora! Cadman! Welcome!" The man raises his glass to us, an almost too wide smile stretching across his face. Everything about him seems to be exaggerated, like a doll stitched by unskilled hands. His eyes I think are the most unnerving part; they're a vivid blue but about twice the size eyes are meant to be. They flick between each of us as we step into the room.

"Please sit down! We're afraid we started a little ahead of you but there's plenty of time to catch up!" The woman giggles and I'm glad to see she's a bit more normal looking than her partner. Her hair is sheared close to her head, a style that was popular back home a few years back. Up her neck I can see black curls etched into her skin, tattoos I think they're called. They weave from the behind her back up along the edges of her face to her forehead, swirling over themselves again and again like tendrils of fog. She gestures for us all to take a seat and we plant ourselves along the edge of the lilac tablecloth.

I've just barely settled into my seat beside the strange looking man when there's an attendant pushing a gleaming tray under my nose. It smells savoury and spicy, some kind of meat covered in a sticky red sauce. My mouth waters as I take one and place it on the small purple plate in front of me. I look around to see how to proceed, noting how none of the capitol citizens have touched any of the food yet. They're just sipping the dark drink and talking in those ridiculous accents of theirs, each voice overlapping the last.

"The games are going to be interesting this year based on the tributes. Did you notice how-"

"I loved the interview they had with the one boy's family, such a cute-"

"Have you any idea what the theme is this year? I heard from a friend of a friend that they might-"

Around and around they go, the ends of the last sentences being engulfed by the proceeding ones. I tune them out and spear the meat with the end of my fork. Gingerly I take a small bite and am surprised as my mouth is taken over by a burning flame. It feels like my tastes bids have been set on fire like an overworked sewing machine and despite my efforts to appear composed, I drop my fork and dive for my glass.

I drink deeply, letting the immensely sweet liquid coat my tongue. But that barely quells the fire, spreading it more than putting it out. Desperately I reach for the glass beside me and gulp that down as well. Still my taste buds cry out for relief! I search the room wide eyed for a pitcher of water or something to soothe my mouth when an attendant taps my shoulder, holding out a large mug of milk. Thankfully I grab it and drink, feeling the burning subside. I sigh as I put the mug down, smiling graciously up at the woman.

As my mouth returns to normal I notice that the swelling conversation has stopped buzzing around me. I lift my eyes to the other occupants of the table and find all except for Cadman and Woof staring right at me. The stylist next to me seems particularly aghast and I realize it was probably his drink I stole.

"Sorry," I croak out, more embarrassed than I've ever felt. We might mock them back home for being eccentric and ridiculous but if there's one thing the citizens of the Capitol are its refined. I feel my face getting hot and look back at my plate.

"It's quite alright sweetheart," says Cecelia from my other side. She turns to the other members of our party. "Our food isn't generally very spicy in district eight."

They all nod and go back to their drinks, an attendant replacing the one I stole from the man on my right. I lift my head as Cecelia gives me an encouraging look and hands me a roll. I'm surprised they're just like back home, small oblong loaves that are hard on the outside but warm and soft on the inside. They're better quality than back home but I'd trade them for the ones we get at the market in a second. I remember dad coming home with them at the end of every week, a little celebration in the form of carbohydrates. We'd all sit around our beaten up table and each crack open our own, laughing and talking and sharing like a family. We might not have had much but there was usually enough and what wasn't there was hardly missed. Our parents worked hard to give us what we needed to survive.

Another course comes out, steaming hot bowls of soup. They're all a smooth light blue and look creamy but I'm weary after my last encounter with Capitol food. I watch Cadman, Cecelia and Woof dig in and after no signs of distress from them I dig in. It's unbelievable, light and warm but substantial too. It tastes potatoey with an undertone of something sweet.

Next comes salads made of thin leaves and covered in sweet berry syrup. Then giant flakey pies filled with meats and vegetables. For dessert, a plate filled with tiny cakes decorated with sugary diamonds.

As they wheel out another cart filled with hot drinks I recline in my seat, fuller than I've ever been. If this is how the capitol citizens eat every night, it seems impossible for them to be all as thin as they are. Of course the ones I've observed eating hardly touched the spectacular delicacies in front of them.

"Are you finally done?"asks Villard with a hint of malice colouring his high voice. He raises his eyebrows a ridiculous amount as he stares at me leaning back into the plush chair. I'd roll my eyes at him but all I want to do right now is sleep.

"Right then," he answers his own question and indicates for the servers to take away our dishes. The room settles into quiet as they whisk out of the room, arms piled high with plates, glasses and cutlery.

"Before you two go off, your stylists would like to get a good look at you so they can alter your costumes for the chariot rides tomorrow." His eyes shift between Cadman and I as he lays down this decree like an ancient king. "Just hold still unless they tell you to do otherwise."

Cadman stands, looking just as full as I feel but with his face set in a neutral stance so I copy him. I must look hesitant because Cecelia looks up and gives me a tiny encouraging smile. The man and the woman change places and she looks at me with a steady calculating gauge. I'm relieved she's my stylist; the man's overly large features set me on edge. As she stands studying me I can get a good look at the tattoos scrawling up her face. They're much more intricate than I imagined before, with different patterns, images ad figures twirling together in an elaborate design. She asks me to turn around slowly and I comply, feeling her eyes scanning all over me but not being too worried. This woman may not be from back home but certain parts of her are reminiscent and for that reason I decide to trust her.

"All right," she says as I turn around, he eyes finally meeting mine. "That'll do. You're going to be great, I promise."

I smile, wondering what outfit she could have possibly prepared for us. Previous years have usually been too outrageous to remember, with wild interpretations of what we do in district eight. Since we produce so many of the capitols favourite fabrics and even designers, the stylists usually take the idea of fashion and run with it. Hopefully it won't be too 'inspired' but you never know.

"I'm Leonarda, but you can call me Lee," she offers, holding my gaze. She gestures to the man across the room from us examining Cadman. "That's Finley."

"Angora, but you'd know that already wouldn't you? Can you tell me what you've got planned for tomorrow?"

She gives me a small hint of a smile. "No, but believe me, you'll look fantastic. This isn't my first games you know."

"Well!" says Finley, clapping his hands together, "It seems like we've got everything we need. Lee?"

"Yes, we'd better go add the final touches. Good evening everyone."

Our stylists leave the room with arms linked and Cecelia rises from the table. "You two had really better get to bed; you've got to be exhausted!"

"Yes, your rooms are at the end of the hallway," Villard gestures to the wide doors behind me.

"Good night!" Cecelia pulls me into a quick hug then sends us off.

Cadman and I exit the room and pace down the hallway in silence. His coldness puts me off, what have I done to him? I search my mind for something to say as we reach the end of the hall where it branches off and reveals two doors. "Well… sleep well." I offer, unsure of what to say.

He mumbles something and turns into the door closest to him. I open mine and am again shocked by the capitols decadence. The walls are a pale yellow and the floor is covered with a thick navy carpet. I the center of the room is a large dark blue bed with enough pillows to completely cover me and Gauge's entire room back home. There are two other giant doors, but I don't bother to open them tonight. On the edge of the rounded bed, I spot my scarf dropped in a loose pile at the foot!

I cross the room and bury my face in it. The smell of home envelopes me again and I breathe it in, wishing with every inch of my being that I could open my eyes and find myself sitting on my sagging mattress in my tiny shared bedroom. But wishing doesn't work and I open my eyes again to the brightly lit Capitol room. I continue to hug my token and let my thoughts drift.

As I hold the fabric, my thumb brushes against something pointed and thin. I rub it over the spot again, feeling the corner of something dully press back. Carefully, I peel back the scarf to reveal a slightly dirty white envelope. Kilim's letter!

I turn the paper over and examine the folded backside. There's a smudged fingerprint at the bottom that brings back the dirty factory work of home.

Slowly, I slid my finger in through the gap at the corner and rip the paper slightly. The envelope rips open, revealing the thin, scrawled on paper inside. I unfold it and begin to read what is probably my last letter from my dearest friend.


	13. Chapter 13: The Letter

The paper is thin and lined with pale blue ink, like the kind we used to use in school. Kilim must have ripped it out of one of his siblings work books. His letters are loopy and rushed, I can remember them from when we were kids and we'd pass notes between the three of us in class. The script seems funnily childlike, considering the large, callused hand I know wrote it.

_Angora,_

_If you're reading this, it means Zanella and I got to you before you left and have already said our goodbyes. Right now I can't imagine what I'm going to say to you but I hope it's alright. I hope it's something warm and nice that will stay with you in the weeks that are coming ahead of you. Whatever I do end up saying I know it won't be enough. You're only allowed an hour for goodbyes and even that amount of time couldn't be enough for everything I want to say to you. _

_This isn't the format I would have chosen but there are so many things about today I wish I could change so that hardly matters._

_There's no way to sugar coat this (though I'm sure Zanella will try), you're leaving for the Capitol to fight to the death. You're going to be up against tributes from all the district of Panem, many who will have been training for this their whole lives and there's nothing I can do to stop it. There's no way I can protect you even I though every inch of me wants to. _

_When they called your name today my body froze in fear. I literally could not feel my heart beating anymore as you walked up onto that stage, as sure of yourself as ever. Then when they called the guys' names I wanted to volunteer but I just couldn't. As much as I want to protect you in the arena I need to protect everyone here first. They all depend on me and I know you can look after yourself. _

_I'll look after your folks while you're gone, make sure they're okay and stuff. I'm sure Gauge will do that too but just to be sure. You know how he can get._

_You are one of the strongest people I know. You're fierce and protective and so stubborn even I know better than to argue against you. I've seen you scared and overwhelmed and hurt and angry but I've never seen you get defeated or give up, no matter what's in front of you. When my mom died, I thought I was going to lose it but I looked at you, how you keep going on and you gave me strength. You are the best person I know. That's why I know you can make it through this and come back. You're too strong not to._

_I love you Angora. I've loved you since before I knew what love meant. I've wanted to tell you since forever but there hasn't been time. I'm sorry that I'm springing this on you now. It's not ideal but now that you're leaving I need you to know. If you don't come back I need you to know how much I care about you, how much it'll crush me for you not to be here. You need to come back, I don't know what I'll do if you don't._

_Your friend,_

_Kilim_

I read the letter over again, the paper crinkling in my hand. Kilim _loves_ me? My best friend has hidden this from me for how long! I close my eyes and shake my head, swallowing the anger and sadness that's swelling inside of me.

How dare the Capitol take him away from me! How can they be so cruel as to separate me from my family and friends, to be paraded in front of them and killed for their own amusement? How can anyone be so sick and twisted to actually enjoy the games like the Capitol does? Anger burns white inside of me, melting my insides until I'm no longer a person. It melds itself to the underside of my skin, becoming a part of me.

Kilim loved me and now I'm probably never going to see him again! I have no idea if I feel those feelings but now I don't even have a chance to work through them! There's no point. And what about Zanella and Crin and Caird and my parents and Gauge? How can I have put so much love and time into all these people only to have the Capitol rip them away from me?

All the things I've felt since I was reaped come erupting out suddenly, like a pipe full of steam blowing off its top and searing the air around it. I jump up from the stupidly frilly bed, taking one of the pillows with me. Its fabric is soft and silky, like the top quality stuff I've spent my life dyeing; the life I'll never get back. I rip the pillow open, breaking the simple stitches with the force of my rage. How can they feed my rich food and put me in this decorated room full of stupid pillows and dress me up in fancy costumes like this? Why do we allow this to go on and on, every year? I understand my father's rants now, how he rails against the Capitol for their unfair treatment of the districts. They've taken away my life!

I slide down and rest my head against the bed, feeling my anger slowly dissipate. I take in a slow breath and let it out, feeling my chest contract and expand. There's nothing I can do about it I remind myself. Nothing I can do but get through these games and go back home. My breathe returns to normal and I focus of the feint hum of the room. I close my stinging eyes and crawl back onto the bed, diving under the thick, silky covers. Alternating waves of anger and sadness wash over me until finally I don't feel anything. I accept my fate.

Steadily, I drift off to the sleep for the first time since I left home, my emotions spent and my spirit nearly broken.


	14. Chapter 14: Sunshine

The world is made of sunshine.

I am warm, bathing in a bright yellow light. The ground moulds to my body, radiating heat onto my skin. My toes scrunch up and bury down deep into the cooling wetness under the sand. In the distance the waves roll in, they sound like wind whipping through a laundry line.

The world is made of sunshine.

I am on a pristine beach, like the ones we saw in our textbooks when we read about district 4. The water is a brilliant turquoise, an unblemished gem, rolling in on white, foaming waves and then out again. The sun fills me with warmth but never gets too hot.

The world around me is at peace.

My family is there with me; mum and dad farther up the hill under a purple umbrella, Gauge and Nia down in the water together. They all look so happy, mum waves at me and dad gives me a wink.

I hear a child giggle and see Caird twirling Ramie and Lech around near the water. They each let out peals of laughter and hold on tight as he spins them around and around. Crin is beside them, building a giant sand castle. She's singing loudly to herself.

I twist my head around further to see Kilim and Zanella, standing side by side in the sand. They wave and gesture for me to stand up and join them. I try but my feet are rooted into the sand, cemented thoroughly no matter how I twist and pull.

"Hold on!" I yell as they share a laugh and keep grinning at. I'm stuck, my feet won't budge.

I look out onto the turquoise ocean to find that it's turned a turbulent dark blue. The sky is a foreboding purple; a cold wind whips past me. I look around at my family and friends but they don't seem to notice the sudden turn in the weather. They stay where they are, still engaging in whatever carefree activity they were engaged in. Gauge picks Nia up by the waist, smiling wildly at her. My parents smile and shake their heads at their children. Caird spins the boys around, their screeching never ceasing. Crin's song gets louder as she continues to build up her castle. Zanella and Kilim still urged me to join them. I look out at the sea and find the tide swelling, giant waves crash violently against the beach. One as big as our building swoops up in front of me, gobbling up the sky and casting a sinister shadow across our paradise. I scream at them all to run but they don't hear me, they're oblivious.

The wave crashes, taking everything with it. Still rooted in the sand I feel it whip around me, pulling me every which way and battering rocks and branches against my exposed body. I can't breathe, it sucks the air from my lungs and I struggle to catch in them. I scream but nothing comes out.

The wave recedes revealing the beautiful beach once again but bare of anyone except for me. I swivel, feet still trapped in the sand but everyone is gone, swept out to sea. The sun tries to warm me again and the sand tries to hug my body but nothing is right anymore. My lungs still won't work. Terrified, I let out one last silent scream at the deadly sea.

I wake up.

Slowly, I come to terms that it was just a nightmare. I raise myself up onto my elbows and find I'm in the giant Capitol bed. The covers are warm, not like the patched blankets we've got at home. I consider diving back into them but the nightmare's shaken me up too much.

With fresh eyes, I take in the room. The walls are the same pale yellow as butter but they seem closer to white under the sunlight that streams in through the window. The ground looks like the inky sky from a moonless night's been poured onto it. The world outside the window is buzzing and full of excitement, I can faintly hear it through the thick glass.

The door swings open and nearly smashes into the wall. Villard. His green hair is somehow sticking nearly straight up into the air and he's wearing a sparkly orange suit jacket, furthering his carrot like appearance. "You're not up yet?" he screeches at me from the door way. "Up! Now! You've got to shower before we get you down to prepare for the chariot rides!"

He slams the door behind and I sigh. Of all the escorts in Panem I got stuck with the craziest. I inch over to the edge of the bed and step onto the carpet, padding my way across the floor towards the two large doors. I press a button on the lighted keypad and one slides open, revealing a brightly lit bathroom ten times bigger than our bathroom back home. Every surface shines as if it's never been used. My face reflects back from a thousand tiny surfaces.

I shed my clothes and pile them neatly in the center of the room then step onto the cold tiles of the shower.

The wall lights up beside me, revealing a host of buttons to choose from. I press one with a light blue raindrop on it and am pelted with freezing water. I jump back, slipping on the wet tile. "Ow! Stupid shower!"

I regain my footing and hit the button again, stopping the chilling water from spilling over me. Teeth chattering, I search the row of buttons for one that won't freeze me. Why does the Capitol need to have all these choices? Back home you turn the tap and hope that water comes out at all!

This time, I go with a pink raindrop and blissfully warm, perfumed water comes out. I sneeze a little and wrinkle my nose but it feels good to refresh my skin. My muscles relax one by one under the steamy water and the last of the tension from the dream melts away.

**So totally sorry for the long update time... But now back to your regularly schedualed fan fiction.**


	15. Chapter 15: Chariots

I fish out the elastic they used to secure my hair last night and stretch it out with my hands, amazed at the elasticity. The band snapped across my forehead, keeping my hair out of my eyes.

Back in the room, a light pink dress is laying on the bed. Quickly I change and head out of the room and down the hall, towards where we ate last night.

Cadman and Woof are eating and rewatching the reapings on the giant television. They don't notice as I walk in the room but Cecelia does and she invites me over to the long dining table to join her. The table is laid out with multilevel dishes, each offering up a selection of fruits and pastries. She hands me a plate and I pile some food onto it.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks as I spear a violet piece of melon on the edge of my fork.

I nod noncommittally, not wanting to share the night's revelations with her. Cecelia's sweet but I'm still not sure about how I feel about Kilim's letter or the feelings it dredged up.

"Today's the chariots," she says, not giving up on our conversation, "The other districts should be arriving soon. I heard there was a bit of a mishap with the rails outside of five so some got delayed."

I nod again, mouth full of rich food.

"But this evening'll go on according to schedule. Your team will prep you then Lee will do the final touches okay? Then chariot rides and back here again for a good night's rest."

I try to smile convincingly, she seems desperate to appease me and I kind of feel a bit ungrateful, sulking about the Capitol and thinking those things about them. Dark thoughts have no use except upsetting me, there's nothing else to do. I decide not to let them win. I decide not to let them get to me. And what good can it do me? Thinking that way? No. I'm going to push it all down and show them they can't break me. Like Kilim said.

I swallow another piece of sugary melon as Villard bursts in through the door, making an entrance as always. "Alright! Let's get a move on! Because of the delay outside of five, nine through twelve are going to be a wee bit late so let's get a head start on them!"

How can he be so annoying all the time? I wonder if the Capitol doesn't install some kind of chip into their citizens' brains to make them extra irritating.

We follow him down the carpeted hall and I do my best to tune out his piercing voice. We wait outside the elevator doors as Villard goes on about how fabulous tonight is going to be and how unfair it is that escorts don't get a sneak peak at the costumes. He jabs the button once, waits about a half second then jabs it again, angrily sighing and rolling his eyes.

"They have got to get another elevator here!" he cries as he jabs the already lit button a third time. "I mean seriously, this is just ridic-"

His rant is cut off by the doors whooshing open, knocking our escort back a little and I stifle a giggle. He shoots me a distained look then turns his attention to the already occupied car.

It's the tributes from three and their mentors. Our group piles in and I study their faces. They both look like children, with their blond hair and blushing faces. The boy won't meet anyone's eyes but the girl shifts her gaze from one person to the next, like a bumblebee hopping between flowers. She doesn't look scared; she's wearing the same expression she was at her reaping, like she's on another planet. I come up to be about a head taller than each of them and my heart breaks a little as I remember these are the tributes that will be in the arena with me. The boy reminds me a bit of Lech, Kilim's youngest brother; they've both got the same flat nose and pointed chin.

The door pings as we hit the ground floor and pour out onto the main floor. Villard breaks away from his animated conversation with the escort from three and directs us through the double doors on one side. Our prep teams wait on the other side, splitting us apart again.

I follow the bubbling Evander and Tahlia, walking between them and the still brooding Ceil. They lead me into a room similar to the one on the train and get to work, powering up tools and opening boxes of perfumed cosmetics. This time I know the drill and strip behind the curtain without having to be told. Tahlia hands me a plush robe and pulls me towards the reclining chair.

"So what do you think of the Capitol? Dazzling right? Did you see the light show last night? There's always such a big one after the reapings! We of course got into the swankest villa, a little party just for the prep teams! It's so great to be working with the Games, I mean, what an honour! Of course I've worked my whole life for this so I really deserve it but-" Tahlia goes on and one, supplying her own never ending stream of conversation.

I sit straight up in the chair as she touches up my nails and Ceil rubs some balm into my skin. Evander tugs at my curls, arranging them at the back of my head. I watch them in the mirror, their elaborate dance to the music of their own chatter. They look so odd, my prep team, of course I really shouldn't be judgemental. I wonder how I would look with my hair replaced by feathers or my face dotted with polka dots. Evander's skin glistens and I want to reach out and touch it, wondering if it could have the same texture as mine.

"How do you get your skin like that?" I ask him, a little embarrassed by my question. I sound like a kid on their first day in the factory, eyes all alight from the whirring machines.

He laughs, his skin shifting to a brilliant yellow. "Isn't it spectacular? They just came out with it and I was dying for it since I saw this model with it last fall! You guys remember? He was in that ad for jewellery implants? With the girl from one who won the hunger games a few years ago?"

They excitedly re-enact the ad for me, walking around with their lips jutting out like a pouting child. "I should have been a model," Tahlia pipes up, swivelling her hips as she walks back towards me. "That's what I would have done you know? If I wasn't chosen to be in prep this year? Imagine me! Strutting on the big video board! I would have been so famous! But now I get to help tributes look their best! Really, I'm all about helping out."

The team returns to me and picks up their jobs where they left off. As Evander slides more pins into my hair I try and ask him again. "But how does it work? Your skin? I can't figure it out."

"Oh! It's some new technology, right out of district three! I'm no brainac like them but the way they explained it to me was its these tiny little screens right? And they're all connected so it fades from one colour to the next all together! Like a flock of birds all changing direction at once! The most fabulous part is that I don't even need to charge it! My body provides the power with its heat!"

"But doesn't it hurt? Having electricity run across your skin like that?"

"Right after they put it in it did a little. It was like a bad sunburn… But now I can't even feel it! Plus, it's a great conversation starter at parties. You won't believe how many numbers I've gotten since I got it put in! Why just last week I was at this party when…"

I tune them out again, letting their voices wash over me like the familiar droning of the machines back in district eight. It's funny how much you don't notice the sounds that make up your home until they're gone. Silence is the one thing that's universal and I've yet to find any here in the Capitol. What do the citizens do when they need to be alone? When they're trying to think? Maybe I'm the only person who feels that way about the silence. Maybe no one else notices the background as much as I do.

They turn me away from the curtain and Tahlia points me towards the curtain. Behind it is a large dress, plain white and tiered in too many layers to count. Is this the big surprise? My chariot dress looks more like the feathers of a ruffled dove than anything to do with our district but oh well. At least it's better than the one a few years back, where the stylist wound the female tribute in thousands of threads so tightly she nearly passed out in the middle of the ceremony. I remember how we all groaned and winced when she wavered, having to be caught by her partner. That was the year both our tributes got taken out in the bloodbath.

Ceil comes and helps me shimmy into the loose folds of the dress. It feels heavy, like wearing a thick comforter but it's not overly warm. I brush my palms against the stark fabric and feel the cool silk on my skin. It's strapless but pinned so perfectly I can breathe but don't have to pull it up every two seconds.

Tahlia and Evander coo as I return from behind the curtain. They sit me down carefully in the chair again and begin on my makeup. I'm faced away from the mirror but I trust their expert movements and excited faces to mean I don't look too horrifying. Evander ties a white scarf made of the same material as my dress into my hair, holding the reddish-brown tendrils out of my face.

Lee comes in, still looking equal parts terrifying and breathtaking. She studies my face and helps Evander arrange the scarf just so in my hair. "Stand up" she tells me and I comply, careful not to step on the flowing hem of the dress.

She directs me towards two thin doors and Tahlia rushes ahead to pull them open. They reveal three mirrors, each reflecting back a woman at a slightly different angle. I'm shocked at how different beautiful she is.

Her hair is expertly pulled back, not the rushed job I usually do while running down the stairs from our apartment back home. The curls cascade down her back like water rushing out from the tightly secured scarf around the base of her hairline. Her skin is flawless, pale but with a slight colouring that suggests she's just been told a delicious secret. Her eyes are the same milky blue-grey as mine but her eyelashes are darker and more noticeable, reminding me of the big eyed dolls that sit on the highest shelf of the second hand store. She seems poised and regal, like a well loved princess from long ago. I have a hard time comprehending that princess is me.

Lee fiddles with the back of the dress, hooking something it and tucking it back within the folds. I'm shocked when the dress that clings me at the top then delicately spreads out into tiers, goes from a stark white to a golden yellow to a sunset pink to a vibrant orange.

"It's beautiful," I whisper, trying to hold back the emotion from my voice.

"I hoped you would like it," Lee replies, standing back to admire her work. "It represents the dyes you produce, you worked with them right? When I saw you last night I knew that you'd do my design justice."

Her eyes skirt up and down the masterpiece, searching for any flaw. "It's perfect."

"Lee thank you! It really is wonderful," something akin to pride floods me; I can't imagine any tribute that'll be dressed like me tonight.

"You're just like me!" Evander squeals, popping out from behind me. "Oh this is going to be big, big, big! Just think, tonight when we go out, I'll be the only one whose skin matches their tributes dress! Oh I'm so excited!"

I step back from the mirrors and take my eyes off the shimmering dress. Lee reaches over and turns it off, the colours slowly fading back into pure white. "But let's keep it our little secret until show time alright? _All of us."_

She shoots Evander a look and runs her fingers through her shot hair. "Fine," he says begrudgingly pulling a face when she turns her back. Villard pokes his head in and tells us we'd best be getting on our way, the other districts are all in prep and we don't want to look like we're far behind. Along the way Cecelia finds us and coos over my dress some more with the prep team.

My entourage dissolves as we enter the back stage of the arena, leaving me awash in the sea of tributes, mentors, stylists and Capitol people. I spot the two from three again, giving the girl a small wave from across the room. The boy stare fixated on some spot on the floor, despite his mentor's efforts to speak to him. The fourteen year old from old swishes her way through the crowd, her gold body suit and wildly sprayed golden hair bobbing towards anyone who glances towards her. I avert my eyes when she comes close, not wanting her to catch me staring.

It's a swirling mass of colours and sounds and smells, the epitome of the Capitol. I try to pick out specifics, remember who's who but they all kind of blur into a frenzy as I back myself up against a wall. From the outskirts it's easier to observe without being noticed and I indulge myself in watching the drama unfold. I'm trying to decide if one man's wearing of a wig or if his hair's simply ridiculously high when I notice I'm not alone.

"What're you watching?" asks the boy beside me. I crane my neck up to meet his lively green eyes.

He reminds me vaguely of Kilim, something in the way he holds himself maybe. The subtle pride and self assurance in the set of his shoulders; not excessive or showy but restrained and dignified. Confidence. He's staring at me and I realize I've taken too long to respond.

"Uhm, the people mostly," I wince at the hesitation in my voice, I sound unsure of myself and childish.

He cocks his eyebrow as he returns his gaze to the magnificent chaos before us. "Oh? Like if those two know they're wearing the same outfit yet?"

He points to two Capitol ladies, each dressed in a showy pink dress. They're on opposite ends of the room but one quickly spots the other and storms over to her. You can see the emotions flash across her face -confusion, disbelief, outrage- as she makes her ways towards the identically clad woman. The words are lost to the buzzing crowd but the boy leans in and says in a high voice with a very affected Capitol accent, "Gasp! How could you do such a thing! How did you steal my simply fabulous dress!"

The other woman turns away from her conversation and sees her doppelganger. "No! _You_ stole _my _dress! You she devil! Go get changed you cow!"

I stifle a giggle as he continues, "Me! You're the one who needs to go! Have you seen yourself in that dress? It's heartbreakingly hideous! On me it looks spectacular but you're simply too fat to pull it off! You change right now!"

The two women exit the room together in heated discussion. Laughter escapes me and I buckle over against the wall. The boy smiles as I try to recover myself, remembering that I'm supposed to be dignified in front of the Capitol crowd.

"I'm Idris by the way," he offers me a rough looking hand. "Idris Petre. But call me Iddy."

"Angora- erm Gora," I shake his hand and realize he's the boy from district six.

"Nice to meet you Gora. You're from eight aren't you? Must be nice up there, being the fashion district and all."

"I suppose. And six? Transportation right?" His costume's all grey mental, meant to represent the underside of a hover car I suspect.

"It's alright, not quite as exciting as here," he turns back to the churning mass in front of us. "What do you think of it all? The Capitol?"

I look back at him, surprised at his question. It's worded very specifically, so it could be interpreted as either a harmless question or a rebellious suggestion. I decide to pretend I didn't hear the undertone and answer with, "It's fine, exciting like you said."

Villard shows up beside me and grabs my arm, pulling me towards our chariot. I wave back at Iddy as he drags me through the rapidly dispersing crowd. "Where did you go? No one knew where you were and we are starting soon! How could you just walk off like that?" He shrieks as we near the chariot. Cadman's already there, dressed similarly to me. He's all in white, but as his stylist adjusts his vest the outfit gives a little ripple of colour.

"It's almost time," Villard says, his eyes trained on something over my shoulder. I turn and see that all the tributes are standing before their chariots and look ready to start the show.

"Right then," Woof says as he and Cecelia appear beside our escort. "Remember to look squarely ahead and don't get discouraged. This is your opportunity to grab their attention."

"Yes," Cecelia adds with a slight smile as she tucks some of my loose hair back behind the white scarf in my hair. "But don't be intimidated. All you have to do is stand there and don't fall off!"

Someone calls for all mentors, stylists, escorts and anyone besides the tributes to please leave as the show's about to start. Lee boots up my dress then give me one last look of appreciation and leaves.

There's a hush as they leave, all us tributes together at last. Cadman mounts our chariot easily but I have a hard time climbing up, not wanting to damage my dress. He sees me struggle and offers his hand to me. I take it as we face the doors as silently as we've done everything since arriving here.

The doors open and district one passes through them. Outside the Capitol awaits.


	16. Chapter 16: Caterwauler

They roar as we exit the doors into the fading sunlight. The citizens of the Capitol go wild for us, the chosen few who ride below them on chariots.

I stare back at them, watching the walls filled with people move and shout, clapping as each couple leaves backstage and is thrust under their scrutinizing stares.

Screens televise the action down here, blowing us up to gigantic sizes for all to see. There's Cadman and I, colours fading and blossoming across our bodies. The two from nine, skinny teenagers covered in ears of corn, as if they're hiding in a field. The girl from one blows kisses out to the audience, but her partner stands stonily beside her, looking vaguely ridiculous in his same golden body suit. They flash between tributes, trying to give each equal air time.

Back home I know they're watching, it's required everyone go to the square and see it together. It's kind of a celebration there, because often we can recognize some of the fabrics worn by the tributes. Once I even ended up dying the fabric that ended up on the tributes from four, a deep blue that took weeks to fade from my hands.

I wonder if it's the same for some girl in three, seeing me and Cadman and recognizing the technology. I wonder if she feels the mixture of pride and sadness that I did. Pride to see her work in action at such a prestigious event but shame and sadness from her direct contribution to the Games.

Our loop around the stadium is nearly finished and I keep staring up at the crowd, not wanting to appear small or unconfident. It's so much bigger than it appears on the screen back home. The people look like specks of glitter caught in a breeze, all moving and shining as a collective.

The evening sky fades to ink as the tributes from twelve come out, the final ones. I feel like screaming up at them, "Alright! We're all here! Children between twelve and eighteen, going to fight for your amusement! You can dress us up all you want but we're going to die! Does it affect you? Do any one you have conscious's? How can you clap and cheer for us and our costumes then watch us die? How can this amuse you people?"

But I keep my lips pasted into a smile and dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands. I quell my rebellious feelings as we make our final turn back towards the doors. Out of the spot light we're greeted by Villard and our mentors who fawn over us excitedly as we head back upstairs to eat.

Cecelia goes on about how professional we were as we wait for the elevator. I spot Iddy, surrounded by his own team of babbling adults. He gives me a little wave while a lopsided grin stretches across his face. His district partner crosses her arms and animatedly tries to pull him into conversation with her.

Upstairs we eat, everyone congratulating each other on how wonderful we looked. I excuse myself and exit the room, wanting to collapse on my big Capitol bed and forget the feeling of thousands of eyes watching me. I pad down the hall bare foot, long having given up my shoes. Behind me there are footsteps but I ignore them, figuring they must belong to an attendant.

"So what was that? With the boy from six?" I stop and whip around at the voice. Cadman.

"Oh so now you're talking to me? What happened to Mr. Silent?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes upwards. "Seriously Angora, are you going to ally with him? Because something about him seems… off."

"No, seriously _Cadman._ Ever since we were reaped you haven't said a word to me and now you're talking? What is up with you!"

He squares his jaw and takes a step towards me; I cock my hip and stand my ground. He may be larger than me and stronger but I will not be intimidated by him.

"You think I should be all chatty? Gabby after we've been sentenced to die here? That's what you think?"

"You could at least be polite. I'm trying to be."

"Yeah well. Your politeness might be attracting the wrong sort of people."

Cadman starts walking again, he looks like he's going to push past me but I'm not done. "What gives you the right to decide who I should ally with? Just because we're district partners doesn't give you any authority over me."

"No it doesn't. I figured we'd be allies though, seeing how we are from the same district."

I'm shocked, "After the way you've acted? Seriously?"

"Look, I'm sorry okay? It's just… hard dealing with this."

"And you don't think I might've found it hard? Just a little bit?"

"Honestly? For what I've seen you're taking it just fine!"

I storm down towards the end of the hallway to our rooms. My dress swishes against the door frame and I pull it back as I slam the door. How could he have just assumed he was the only one suffering? He's not the only one who was reaped so how can he act like it's his burden alone? I slide down the smooth door and lean against it, spreading my skirt out across the carpet.

This is ridiculous. What am I doing here? It's been two days since we left district eight and I've never felt more conflicted in my life. There are so many decisions that have to happen now because they'll impact whether I live or die in the arena. So many different ways I can screw myself over and end up dead in less than two weeks. Why try? I'm against so many other people who're twice my size and who've trained for this their whole lives. Even if I surrender and work myself harder than I've ever worked in the next two weeks, I'd be losing myself. It's either kill everything that makes up my personality and life or be killed right out of the gate. Which will it be?

There's a timid knock on the wood behind me. "Angora?" It's Cadman.

"Go away," I groan, letting my head fall back against the door.

"Look… I'm sorry. I was just being stupid. I just… I'm sorry okay?"

I pull my knees up to my chin and hug them through the shiny dress. I chew on my bottom lip -a bad habit- and slow my mind down to a halt.

"So… Can I come in? I promise not to make you mad or say anything stupid again."

Without saying anything I pick myself up from the floor and pace over to the bed, choosing the same spot I sat in last night. Crossing my legs, I stare at my hands as Cadman gingerly turns the handle and opens the door. He takes me in as he stands in the doorway, for once looking totally out of his element.

"Awe, Angora I'm sorry," he takes a long step into the room, like he's testing it for land mines. "Really, I'm a jerk." He crosses it and kneels and the ground before me.

"It's fine," I concede, not wanting to display my weakness to him.

"It's not," he says definitively, trying to meet my eyes. I raise them and stare into the dark eyes that're most common in our district. The same eyes my brother Gauge and our parents share. "When a girl says something's fine it's not. So let's talk okay?"

"You are just the most confusing person I've ever met," I allow, pulling my torso up so I'm sitting straight. "First you seem perfectly normal back in the district then you're cold and standoffish and now you care about my feelings? What is this?"

He lets out a low chuckle, "I'm pretty weird alright? It's just part of who I am. My reactions are based off of… Well off whatever I think'll fit the situation best. They're not always appropriate but that's just me."

"Well thanks for the heads up. A little more warning next time though hey? Maybe we should have a code word or something, for when you're going to pull a 180 on me?"

"Sure," he teases, "How about... caterwauler?"

"What?"

"Caterwauler. It's that screeching noise a cat makes when you step on its tail. My grandma uses it to describe my singing."

"You sing?" I laugh trying to imagine it.

"Like a choir of angels," he retorts, his smile spreading across his whole face. "It's a good code word since no one else has ever heard of it."

"Caterwauler. I like it. Sounds… interesting."

"Alright, so we've got our code word for when I'm about to go weird on you, how about we work on an alliance next?" Cadman flops down and sits on the carpet and tries to copy my crossed legs with little success.

"Didn't you learn that in school?" I laugh as he finally gets it right.

"Must've missed that day. So we're cool right? Allies?"

"Allies," I agree, taking him hand and shaking it exaggeratedly.

"Great. So we start training tomorrow, should we tell Cecelia and Woof then?"

"Yeah, I'm too tried tonight. All I want is to wash off all this make up and go to sleep."

He gets up and offers me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up to my feet. "I'm glad we worked this out," he says, towering over me once more.

"Mhm, goodnight Cadman."

"Night Angora."

He leaves, closing the door softly behind him as I get ready to sleep. My mind whirs with everything that's happened today; broadcast all across Panem, my second day in the Capitol and now two possible allies? It's better than I could have hoped for.

**Hey folks, your friendly neighborhood author here. I know I keep asking for them but reviews? Please? It'll literally take you like thirty seconds. Then I'll know how I'm doing, what I can improve, what you want to see, all that good stuff! So really! Please and thank you and hugs!**


	17. Chapter 17: Training

Cadman shifts his weight beside me, readjusting to stand straighter on the balls of his feet. Outside the levels of the training center shoot past but I can't focus on them. I can't put myself at a disadvantage today. Neither of us has much of an idea what to expect of our first day of training; it's one of the few things the Capitol doesn't televise so we're flying blind.

This I stepped tentatively into the dining room, afraid that our alliance might've dissolved in the night. I kept my head down and picked at some food, unsure of how to act. Cadman stared at me until I finally looked up and gave me an unfamiliar, friendly smile. The awkwardness all but disappeared after that and we chatted energetically with our mentors until it was time to go downstairs.

The elevator pings as we reach the ground floor, doors sliding quickly apart to reveal about half of our competitors already gathered in a scattered half circle. I search the faces for someone familiar but Iddy wasn't down yet, so I start towards a clump of other tributes, apart from the off putting look of the careers. Cadman follows me silently and we enter the loose configuration without any fuss. The first one to meet my eyes is a girl, small and dark reddish brown hair cut at straight angles that frame her pale face. She's taller than I but not by much, with a welcoming smile and hands that move exaggeratedly when she talks.

"Hi!" she greets us, "I'm Nora, from two? Wow, training day huh?"

She introduces us to her companions. Her quiet, calculating district partner is named Alby. He gives a nod towards us then goes back to looking over our heads, his face blank and hard. The girl beside him is Sade, the smaller tribute from nine who shoots us each a quick smile and plays with her hair. Then the blonde with a pinched looking face from twelve and the towering boy from seven, Risa and Banner. They all seem so much more focused and sure of themselves than me.

"I'm Gora and this is Cadman," I gesture over my shoulder to my partner, he gives a small wave. "We're from district eight."

"Oh!" Nora says, her face lighting up even more. "You were the two with the rainbow outfits last night weren't you? That was so spectacular! I wish I could trade stylists with you; mine hardly seems to know anything about fashion I swear! Did you see our clothes? Bricks? That's the best she could do? How about something with a little appeal I mean really!" Nora goes on about her chariot outfit with few contributions from us. Risa comments along with her, complaining about her experiences with the prep teams. I tune in and out, smiling when I realize who they remind me of. Zanella, with her hair ribbons and creative flair would have loved last night. My heart pings as I imagine her watching, with Kilim and my family as we stood there in our costumes, dazzling but unreachable.

I push those feelings down and force myself into their conversation with more animation. Now is about forging alliances and getting on the good sides of other tributes. I have to focus to make sure I'm not left out.

The doors ping again and out steps a large looking man, obviously from the Capitol with his healthy skin and confident posture. He surveys us all with a casual look in his eyes and introduces himself as the head of the training facility. Everyone follows him silently as he walks us around the large room and explains each of the stations. He finishes by saying that we're free to whatever we wish to use in the center and that experts in each field will be available to answer our questions.

Other tributes drift off towards various set ups, eager to learn to use the different weapons and try out their survival skills. Cadman starts towards the edible plants section and I follow him, unsure what else to do.

The station is manned by a reserved woman who welcomes us quietly. Her hair falls down her back in a thick braid and she seems older than many people we've seen in the here. Not that Capitol citizens don't live long, they just think looking old is a bad thing, like it purveys weakness and unattractiveness somehow. I don't really get it but to each their own.

"We're from eight," Cadman replies when she asks if we have any experiences with the plants on the table.

"Oh," she nods, "Not much vegetation there, right? Well we'll just start off with the basics…"

She explains the values of each type of plant and I quickly learn which groups to stay away from. Behind her is a video screen and she flicks it on, trying to get us to identify where we might find certain types of mushrooms on an image of a forest. Cadman and I work together, learning from the others mistakes and helping explain things more clearly when the woman's explications are difficult to follow.

It barely registers when someone sits down next to me; I'm concentrating too hard on telling apart a poison and a bean plant. There was something about the stems but they both seem green and leafy to me.

I jump when the person next to me speaks. "What're you staring so hard at?" Iddy asks, bringing his face down to mine over the plants.

He laughs as I recover myself. "Plants," I answer briskly, embarrassed at my lack of awareness of my surroundings. I was going to have to work on that before the games.

"No really?" he replies sarcastically, "I figured it was just a weird looking slingshot."

I roll my eyes at him and try to differentiate the plants again.

"It's the one on the right," Iddy mock whispers at me.

"What?" I ask guardedly, not sure what he's trying to do.

"The poison? That's what you're trying to figure out isn't it? The right is the poison and I'm not so sure about the left."

I look up at him and see his eyes hold no gleam of a joke anymore. The expert comes over to us and asks if I've figured it out yet.

"Yeah. It's the right?" I answer hesitantly, not sure if Iddy was correct.

"Yes!" she seems genuinely pleased at my progress and gives me another two plants.

I turn to Iddy as soon as she moves on to someone else. "How did you know that?"

He shrugs. "There're a lot of foragers in back home. Plus that poison stuff grows all over; it's good to know the difference."

I nod, not sure how to respond. I'm starting to worry that being from eight might be a disadvantage in the arena if all the other tributes know so much about plants. Our urban district doesn't hold much in the way of forests.

The two new plants before me look impossibly the same, but Iddy picks them out again with ease. He guides me through the other exercises, offering little rhymes to help me remember the attributes of various poisons. I look up, wanting to share my new found teacher with Cadman but he's no longer beside me. My eyes scan the training room and I spot him all the way across the centre, whipping spears at a foam target.

I decide that I should follow his lead and get up to join another station. There are so many to choose from, it's hard to know which I should focus on. I have no idea what the arena could hold and that great wall of uncertainty eats at my confidence. Whatever I study here could save my life in the arena, if only I knew what is was.

Alright, I'll try something new. It's better to get the basics in everything than to study one thing and never use it. My eyes skim over more heavily populated stations like hand-to-hand combat and sword training to the nearly empty archery station.

Iddy follows happily as I make my way over and I'm glad for his company. He babbles on, making sly jokes about other tributes as we pass them and I stifle a laugh.

"Do you know who I am?" He half whispers in a high, screeching voice as we pass the knives station where the pretty tribute from one is pouting. "Really? Because I don't."

Her blond head pops up at the sound of my giggle and she gives me a sneer, but that only makes me laugh harder. The expert is already engaged with the young boy from three so we lean against the station, picking up the arrows and testing them. I playfully jab Iddy with the tip of mine and he flies back in mock pain. Moaning loudly, he dies a long dramatic death at my feet, finally ending by sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes back into his head.

The expert heads over to us so I roll my eyes at him and offer Iddy a hand to help him up. He takes it and jumps to his feet, making a big show of brushing himself off before joining us.

The rest of the morning flies past, with a short pause for lunch where I join Iddy at a table with some other tributes. His district partner, Venus, glares at me but doesn't say anything as I sit down and ignores me throughout the conversation but I really don't mind. I eat and talk to Quirina, the girl tribute from three, hearing all about her magical experience with the knives. She's so young that it's like talking to a child and I'm glad I can avoid the conversations of strategy and alliances all around us. I know it's important to be noticed and find other people but talking to her cures a bit of my homesickness. Before all this I was considering applying for a teaching position at the school, just helping out with the younger grades. I'd always liked being around children and I figured it couldn't be as bad as dying fabrics all day. Applications were going to be reviewed after the games though so it's not a possibility now. Even if I make it home, no victor really works. The Capitol supplies them with enough food and money that they can do pretty well whatever they want and few take jobs. In district eight, you don't even have required hours at the factory and Cecelia and Woof don't work. I don't figure I would either, I'd feel guilty about taking the job from someone who really needs it. Either way I like the easiness that comes with talking to her.

After lunch, there's training again. Cadman waves at me from across the room but doesn't come over. I worry he's slipping back into his silence from before but put it off. He'll tell me if something's wrong. Iddy is all too happy to follow me to various stations, keeping up light-hearted conversation and learning skills alongside me.

The afternoon is soon over and slowly tributes drift towards the elevator to go for dinner. I decide to make my way up and Iddy teases me about tiring out so fast but follows too. I'm glad we've made friends so fast; he's one of the nicest people I've met here in the Capitol. His never ending stream of joking chatter helps keep my mind from slipping to less happy thoughts. When the doors swish open at his floor he winks at me and heads out, Venus shooting me a look as she saunters behind him.

Dinner with Woof and Cecelia is pleasant, quieter than our lunch with the other tributes. We discuss strategy and eventual interview prep, everything still in vague terms. Cecelia assures me there's still loads of time to prep and sends me off to bed early. I can't argue I'm too beat from today.

Back in the bedroom again, I stretch out across the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. This was the first almost happy day I've had in since coming here and I breathe in the almost quiet of the room. It's nice to be alone again; I can't believe how much I miss it from back home. All those solitary walks to work or the square in the quite moments of the day seem like dreams from another life now. I squeeze my eyes shut against the light overhead and just relax, drinking in the richness of the moment.

There's a timid knock at the door. "It's open," I mumble.

Cadman leans in the door frame smirking at my relaxed state. "Hey, you wanna talk?"


	18. Chapter 18: Bonding

"You had her too?" Cadman rolls over to face me laughing.

"Yeah, when I was uhm… six?"

"Oh my gosh she was the worst! The way she'd scrunch up her nose when she was really cutting into some kid?" He sits up; pulling a poor impersonation of our ancient teacher's scolding face. Waggling his finger at me and screeches in a scratchy old lady voice, "Mr. Livolsi! If you talk back once more to me I swear I will keep you after class!"

We both double over on the plush carpet and fight to regain our breath.

Talking to Cadman has really been great. At first when he came in I worried because he had this shy, shifty kind of look, like he wasn't sure what to do. But it soon dissolved into animated conversation as we shared stories of home and discovered how much we have in common.

We'd had a few of the same teachers and worked for awhile in the same factory, though he in machine monitoring and I in the dying room. I'm not sure where to conversation is going but I bear with him, enjoying my new light-hearted district partner.

As we regain composure I cock my eyebrow at him and quip, "So that's what you did for fun back home? Talked back to poor old teachers?"

He rolls his eyes at me and smirks. "Nah. Had to move on to something else when school was over."

"Like what?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"I was being mentored at the carpenters shop actually. Just sweeping up and keeping inventory but still…" Cadman's voice trails off as he stares at the ceiling.

"Really?" I think of the first time I saw him but don't say anything.

He chuckles, "Yeah, pretty boring huh? So what about you? Any exciting adventures you'd like to share?"

I roll my eyes and squint up at the ceiling, "Nah, I'm boring."

"I don't believe that," he counters, still laughing "I'll bet you've got more than a few stories to tell."

"Oh yeah," I say sarcastically, "You never heard of the great and terrible Gora? The scourge of district eight! Sweeping between buildings at night and committing unmentionable acts. " I pull myself up onto my knees and pull a face, raising my arms above my head like claws.

Cadman shifts back, playing at being snivelling and afraid of me. I slowly rise, trying to stifle the laughter bubbling inside of me as I stalk towards him.

"Yes," I growl half convincingly at him as he scrambles backwards in mock terror, "It is I, the horror that stalks your nightmares! Fear me!" I lunge at him, my hands extended but he catches me first and we both burst out laughing again.

Part of me is afraid of how easy it is to be with him. He's amazingly easy going but I'm still waiting for the silent, spurning Cadman was going to return. I didn't want to let him get too far under my skin just to be turned away from and ignored but I couldn't just make him go away. A larger part of me wanted to open myself up more to him, to let him in and forge a steadfast alliance with my district partner.

We lie on our backs on the floor again, slowly letting the giggles dissipate. It's hard; because as soon as I think I have a hold on myself I'll look over at him and start all over again but soon we both sigh and the quiet returns.

"So tell me something," he breaks the silence, turning his face towards me.

I wait but he doesn't continue, "Tell you what?"

"Anything. Tell me something I don't know."

I continue to stare at the high ceiling, trying to decipher what he's asking. I decide to start small, start with something easy.

"I have a brother," I offer, still unsure.

"A brother?" he repeats in his low voice. "Tell me about him."

"His name's Gauge. He's eighteen," my voice has taken on a whispery quality, the kind meant for breathless confessions and midnight secrets.

"Gauge," he plays with the name.

"Yeah, he's my only brother and so annoying sometimes. He takes up more room than you could imagine, especially since I share a room with him. Plus he and his girlfriend, Nia, are all over each other all the time. It's hard to get some breathing room!" I ramble, not able to put the stopper back in after I begin. I didn't realize how deeply I wanted someone to talk to until Cadman started me off.

"I mean it's not all bad, really. He's a sweetheart when he's not being arrogant or teasing. When we were little he would even let me tag along when he was with his friends. My parents used to say I was his little duck, following him around so much like that. He would shape his hands like bills and quack at me whenever I was sad…"

I let my rant trail off into the quiet hum of the room. Cadman still hasn't said anything so I look over, afraid he's fallen asleep. He hasn't but he doesn't move, just breathing in and out, fixated on some part of the ceiling.

I'm a little embarrassed, afraid I bored him. "Okay now, you go. Tell me something."

I'm afraid he hasn't heard me since he doesn't react but don't bother him. I close my eyes, rest my head on the cushiony carpet and wait.

Finally his response comes. "I have a sister," his voice sounds a little strained.

I open my eyes and look at him again, propped up on his elbows beside me. "Tell me about her," I repeat.

"She's… little. Just this tiny thing really. She'll be nine next month but you can hardly tell," I recognize the murmuring tone he uses, close to the same quality my voice took on when I spoke about Gauge.

"She's defiant as anything though, always thinking she's stronger than she is. Not that she can't take care of herself but… I don't want her to half to. Our district is full of so much suffering and sadness that I want to protect her from it. I know I can't, that I'm doing it all for naught and I should let her grow up but I can't. I need to let her be a kid."

He glances at me, a little worried that he's said too much but I understand. It's the same thing I feel for Crin and Kilim's brothers. The same nurturing desire I've seen in my parents.

"That's understandable," I offer in a hushed tone. There's a long moment where neither of us says anything. Cadman searches my eyes and I study his. They're brown, but mottled with shades of olive green and flecks of gold. These are the dancing eyes that met mine for the first time so many weeks ago. The twin, dancing orbs that laughed across the square now sit so close to me, still sparkling.

"I suppose so," he replies after the moment is past, "Her name's Calla. She'd like you I think. She'd think you're funny."

"Funny looking maybe," I smile, letting the seriousness leak out of our conversation. We've had enough tension for one night.

He grins back, eyes dancing again. "Well probably, I'd tell her not to laugh though. Not polite you know?"

I smack him in the arm but relax, not so much glad that our talk is over but tired from it all the same. Cadman must feel the same way I do because he arches his back and stands up, covering his yawning mouth.

"Well," he offers me his hand and I pull myself up, "I've got to crash before training tomorrow! So many things to do!"

He starts to head out when I remember what I had planned to tell him earlier.

"Wait! Do you maybe want to… train together? I mean I know we don't have to and you're probably sick of me but since we'd both be down there anyways…"

"I thought you'd already found a training buddy," he interjects, "The guy from six? I didn't figure you wanted me to be a bother to you two."

"What! No! Of course not! Cadman you can so train with us it's no big deal. Iddy's real nice and helpful too! I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you-"

"You're sure?" he confirms, an unreadable look on his face.

"Yeah. Yes, completely." I respond, not wanting to come off to clingy. I liked hanging out with the two of them and figured they'd hit it off tomorrow.

"Alright then," he replies, cautiously but resolved.

"I'll see you in the morning then. Get some sleep!"

"You too," he turns and crosses the room, closing the door on his way out.

The room seems somehow warmer than it has on previous nights, when I lay alone on the bed. The hours between now and waking seemed like they had more purpose, like sleeping was directly going to contribute to the following day of training. As I climb between the soft sheets it occurs to me what's different.

I have something to look forward to in the morning: two friends and work to be done. Somehow in this mess, I've found a way to impact my future and I'm taking it.

I can only hope that the day will reward me with a chance.

**As always, reviews and whatnot are totally appreciated!**


	19. Chapter 19: New Heights

Training settles into familiarity quickly.

Days are spent with Iddy, learning despite his constant wisecracks. He and Cadman are uneasy around each other at best, never really clicking the way I had hoped they would. Evenings Cadman and I fool around, laying on the carpet in my room and talking until we're well past tired. Our threesome attracts other tributes and we fall in well together. Nearing the end of the week we all meet together in the mornings to work together on training. There's Nora, with her inherent bubbliness who has become fast friends with Risa, her quite sidekick. Quirina from three joins us along with her small counterpart, Buzz.

We're a loose approximation of friends, making it through to the terrifying end of the week.

"Yes!" I cheer. After an unsuccessful hour at the archery station I'm finally able to hit a target dead on. Iddy laughs as his arrow goes wide, scraping against the light coloured walls.

"I'm totally useless at this," he chuckles, putting down his bow.

I roll my eyes but follow his lead. "Come off it, you were great at nets!"

"Yeah, after I started copying you!"

We leave the station, searching for somewhere else to hone our skills. I glance across the center at Cadman; engaged in swordplay with Nora. He looks my way and we share a smile but he doesn't pause in his fight.

Iddy pulls at my hand. "Awe yes! The careers left the climbing wall come on!"

We pass a small collection of careers lead by the loudmouthed tribute from two. He's bragging about how since he was going to volunteer anyways, this must mean that some greater force wants him to be here. Iddy smirks, and leans down to whisper in my ear, "Careers and diapers have one thing in common. They should both be changed regularly, and for the same reason."

I bust up, unable to keep myself in check until we get to the station where we settle down a bit as the expert starts explaining things to us about the wall.

It's really just a flat wall and I don't see how exactly they expect us to scale it, but when the man reaches under his desk and presses a button. The wall morphs in and out, like a bed sheet being snapped before it's folded. Then certain parts emerge and others recede until the rocky face of a mountain stands before us.

"That has got to be… the coolest thing I've seen here so far," Iddy utters with a laugh on the edge of his voice.

He runs past the expert like an overexcited kid, his neck craned up as he grabs hold of a rough rock. I don't hesitate, following his lead and catching up to him quickly. We climb in a frenzied tandem, never looking down. Iddy's wonderful at it and I learn quickly where to put my feet and how to shift my weight. He laughs, the top is in sight! He beats me there and pulls himself over the edge, panting. I scramble to find another foothold and launch myself over the top as well.

I'm panting like crazy but I've never felt more exhilarated! The climb was reminiscent of the ones I would do when I snuck out my window on sleepless nights. A thousand memories of swinging through the rusted bars of the ancient fire escapes come to me and I feel warm and energized. A thousand sunrises, two thousand rare silent moments of peace, every secret adventure to the top of the roof a gift. I lean over the edge and smile down to the people at the bottom, we really are far up.

Next to me, Iddy stabilizes his breath. He takes one look at me peering over the edge and crawls over to join me. My eyes don't know where to go so I scan the room, loving the familiar twinge of fear and joy as my fingers grip the platform. I lose myself in the sense of being home.

I look over at Iddy, wanting to share the exhilaration with him but he's lost all colour in his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask, suddenly worried. Can he see something amiss that I can't?

I take his shaking hand and try to find what he's looking at but all I see is the far away ground.

"Iddy," I give his shoulder a nudge, "What is it?"

He closes his eyes and says in a very restrained voice. "The ground is so far away."

I sigh, thinking he's joking. "Yeah, that's kind of what happens when you climb."

I shift my legs, ready for the retreat downwards but he catches my wrist. "Don't go."

"We have to. C'mon scardy cat. Why so afraid all of the sudden?"

Iddy's eyes are terrified as he searches my face. "It's just… so high up. What if we fall?"

"C'mon you've never climbed before? That's kind of the purpose…"

He shakes his head, "Aren't too many opportunities back home."

I take in a breath and nod, understanding now. Scared is not something I had expected from my fearless friend but it's something I can deal with. I go into child minding mode as I gently talk him down. "Iddy, we're going to have to get down now."

Again he shakes his head. "I can't. Look I'm sorry Gora but I really, really can't."

"Yes you can. First we have to loosen our grip on the edge of the platform…"

I wait for what seems like ages as each finger individually relinquishes its hold on the metal.

" Great! Now we'll turn ourselves around and find a foot hold…"

I talk him through every step, encouraging him until finally we're back on the rubber mat.

"Uh Iddy? It's okay too look down now."

He heaves a giant sigh of relief and lets out a surprised laugh. "Thank you Gora! I didn't know I was such a wimp!"

He pulls me into a tight hug as I laugh. "Baby steps next time huh?"

"Yeah, baby steps," he rolls his eyes and we follow everyone else out to lunch.

The rest of the day passes much easier; we go back to knots and work hard on perfecting traps for awhile. Iddy brushed off the climbing incident quickly so I ignore it too.

Later, after dinner, when Cadman and I start to get up Cecelia stops us. "We should really talk about your training…"

I cock my head to the side, confused. "Why?"

"Well tomorrow you'll be meeting with the Gamemakers… Woof and I want you both to be prepared."

"Tomorrow?" I'm taken aback. I thought there was more time. I count backwards in my head, trying to track the days back to our arrival here. Has it really been a week?

I'm suddenly astounded by my lack of time. Our week of hesitant friendships is speeding towards a close and I can't help but think it's my only time left.

I'm not ready for my life to be over.


	20. Chapter 20: Song of Home

C adman recovers far faster than me and I wonder if I'm the only one who lost track of the time.

"What can we expect?" He asks, intently focused on our mentors.

Woof looks like he's about to nod off into his soup so Cecelia answers. "It's not too formal," she says, distributing her gaze evenly between us, "You enter, show off a few skills then leave."

"That's all?" I'm terrified that's all the time I get. This is what will influence our training scores and I'm worried I'll mess up.

"It's plenty of time," my kind eyed mentor reassures me.

Cadman leans forward in his seat, "So what do you think would impress them the most? How can we set ourselves apart?"

I notice that he's including me in his questions and I'm grateful, our alliance seems strong for now.

"There're plenty of things to do. Any skill could be deemed important in relation to the arena, since they're the only ones who know, so go with what you do best."

I sigh, searching my mind for something I'm particularly great at. Something that will grab their attention and make them want to give me a chance.

"Angora?" Cecelia waves her hand in front of my face. Crap, I wasn't paying attention. She chuckles a bit, "Stay with us hon, I wanted to go over any questions you might have before tomorrow."

I search my mind to find something important to ask but come up with nothing. Conceding, I tell her I haven't any.

"Good then!" Cecelia smiles her motherly smile and clasps my hand over the table. "You're going to do great Angora," she takes Cadman's hand too, "And you Cadman. I can just feel it."

I swallow hard at her heartfelt words. How many tributes has she said this to? How many of us has she watched die so soon afterwards?

Villard looks up from the end of the table where he's been watching some Capitol show on a glowing tablet. He gives a vague approximation of a smile and says, "Shouldn't you send them to bed Cecelia? The tykes can't be tired tomorrow."

For once I'm grateful for his rudeness.

"We really should head off…" I start, knowing the conversation will end here.

Cecelia sits straight up in her chair, "But there's still so much to discuss! I wanted to go through each skill in dept and then work out a plan for-"

"Let them go," mumbles Woof who I thought had long since passed out. "Planning everything can't help at this point. The need sleep."

I rise quickly, not wanting to give Cecelia an opportunity to argue. She really does mean well but I can't deal with her plans tonight. I can't focus on what'll happen tomorrow or I'll go crazy.

"Good night," I give her a swift peck on the cheek then I turn and hurry down the hallway, Cadman in tow. We don't say anything but it's a comfortable silence; one that I know will be broken sooner or later as we lay in my room, swimming in easy conversation.

When I push open the door and enter the room however, he doesn't follow me. I stop and turn around, expecting him to be there but he's not.

Fine, let him disappear again. I retie my hair into a half hearted bun. Could tonight get any worse? First I find my time's run out fast and now I've lost my sympathetic ear. Just great.

I jump off the bed and march out the door, suddenly angry and determined to talk to him face to face. He swore he'd give me warning before he did this to me again.

Outside his door I pause, figuring exactly what to say to him. 'Well I didn't need you anyways' sounds too childish but something along those lines is what I'm going for. I take in a deep breath, square myself and clench a fist, ready to knock when…

I hear a low voice, muffled by the door.

At first I think Cadman's gone nuts, talking to himself alone in his room but then I recognize the cadence, the familiar swell of sound that carries me back home.

_Gonna build a mountain, from a little hill._

It's a song that's sung at winter solstice, when the night is the longest and the air freezes in your lungs. The solstice party is the biggest event in district eight, with dancing and singing and gifts exchanged. It gets so abysmal in the dead of winter that the people just need a celebration.

_Gonna build a mountain, least I hope I will._

Last year Kilim, Zanella and I danced together in a circle while the band played this song, just before the power went out. We wandered back to Zanella's place still singing.

_Gonna build a mountain, gonna build it high._

I bite my lip to keep the memory of that night from bowling me over. We had been so happy, so untouched by the desolation in our futures. Is there any way for me to get back to there?

_I don't know how I'm gonna do it, only know I'm gonna try._

I open the door to his room slowly, forgetting I was going to yell at him. The room's the exact opposite of mine, with butter coloured carpet and midnight blue walls. Cadman's standing with his back to me, arms outstretched. He's so lost in the song that he doesn't notice me.

_Gonna build a daydream, from a little hope._

I rest my head against the wall and watch him let loose. This is perhaps the most relaxed I've ever seen him and it suits him.

_Gonna push the daydream, up that mountain slope_

I close my eyes and drink in the easy notes and the feeling of home. I can almost imagine I'm back there, still dancing with my two best friends amidst our families and neighbours.

_Gonna build a daydream, gonna see it through._

A smile breaks out across my face as I anticipate the next line.

_Gonna build a mountain and a daydream, gonna make 'em both-_

"Gora!"

My eyes fly open to reveal Cadman, in mid dance staring at me incredulously. Crap. "Uhm. Hi… I was just…" I turn to leave, feeling extremely embarrassed for being caught watching him.

I get about two steps before he stops me.

"No! Gora, wait!" Cadman's behind me, steering me back towards him. "It's really no big deal, you just surprised me is all."

I bite my lip and look at him, remembering that he was mad at me.

He offers me his well worn smile and I can't help but return it.

"You're like a little mouse, creeping about like that. Ever heard of knocking?"

I laugh a bit, unable to find any hidden tension in his voice. "Wouldn't have heard it over that loud voice of yours," he leads me into his room.

"You mean over the sheer brilliance that escapes my mouth?" He puffs up his chest and strolls in front of me, doing a horrible impersonation of Villard. "Yes, I think I would do wonderful here in the Capitol. Blossoming and whatnot. The girls would be fainting at my feet."

"Due to the smell probably," I jab, deflating his mock ego.

"Oh you're going to regret that!" Cadman takes after me, arms outstretched. I squeak and run, knowing from joking with my brother what's coming next. Try as I might, I can't outrun his long legs and soon he catches me.

"Stop! Stop!" I gasp as he tickles me. He concedes and we fall into a heap in the middle of his bedroom rug.

As my breath steadies I decide to confront him, "So what? You weren't going to give me warning this time?"

"Huh?" He turns his head and looks at me, still panting.

"Remember? You're supposed to warn me if you're going to go off and ignore me again."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't ignoring you Gora, I wouldn't do that."

"Uhm, you did remember? The whole way here?"

"That doesn't count, I already apologized for it."

"Well you were going to start again," I answer stubbornly.

"I was not," he turns on his side to face me. Our breaths have both returned to their regular rates.

"Hello? Going straight to your room without a word? What do you call that?"

Cadman lets out a low laugh and shakes his head at me.

"Don't laugh at me!" I sit up, not wanting to face him anymore. Despite myself I cross my arms, knowing I probably come off as a pouty child.

"Agora," he pulls himself up too and stares at me until I look at him, "I was not ignoring you. I thought you were upset and needed space you silly girl!"

I raise one eyebrow, confused. "Me? But I'm not the one who walked away to go sing in their room!"

He smiles again and stares into my eyes, "But you were upset. I could see it on your face when Cecelia mentioned tomorrow."

There is absolutely nothing I can think of to say at this point. He was _giving_ me space? And I thought he was mad at me! Inwardly I kick myself for jumping to conclusions. How could I just assume he hated me because he didn't want to hang out? I was getting too dependent on Cadman, I could see that now. The trouble is, I don't see how I can regain some of my independence from him. Already he feels like an old friend, like someone I've known for year instead of a week.

I realize he's still waiting for a response. "Oh. Well… thanks then I guess. But try telling me next time hey?"

That grin breaks across his face and I know we're back on track. "And have you miss my dazzling concert? Never! Depriving any girl of the sweet melody of my voice would be a crime."

I smack his arm and normality returns, at least for one night.

**Thanks for reading! If you want to hear the entirety of Cadman's song, check out "Gonna Build a Mountain" from the musical ****Stop the World I Want To Get Off****. As always hearts and don't forget to review!**


	21. Chapter 21: Waiting

I pull the light pink tunic farther down over my grey tights then chastise myself for fidgeting. Everyone else seems far more collected than I feel and I can't stand to give away weakness now.

We speak in hushed tones as we wait for our turn with the Gamekeepers.

We're about half way through, up to the tributes from five now. First the boys enter then the girls, slowly emptying our room without returning to it. What could be happening behind those doors, I wonder? What could they be saying, be doing to show that they really deserve a high training score?

Iddy pokes me in the side and I jump, having forgotten I'm not alone.

"Awe, tired sweetheart," he teases, "Spent too much time staying up dreaming of me I suppose,"

Normally his jokes can pull me out of my day dreaming states but today seems too serious for it. I wish Nora was still here with her stream of easy chatter, but she went in early seeing how she's in district two. It's much easier to forget myself and gush about clothing and Capitol life than to deal with Iddy's attempts to cheer me up.

I wonder what it'll be like, in the arena. If our shakey alliance will hold or if it'll dissolve like I've seen many do over sixteen years of watching at home. Cadman and I will stick together and I figure Iddy will come with us, probably Nora too. I so want to bring the two twelve year olds from three, want to somehow protect them but I don't think the boys will go for it. It's stupid to build on our group anyways, large groups never last unless they're careers.

The man from our first day in the training center steps out. "District six, male tribute," he calls out, leaving emotion out of his voice. I wonder what this must be like for him, training tributes every year only to watch them die. He probably doesn't care, probably brags about it and gets invited to all the swankest Capitol parties because of it. These people don't care for us I remind myself. They live and breathe for the excitement of watching us die.

Iddy winks as he goes through the doors, still trying to coax out a smile out of me.

We wait in silence.

The man enters again and calls the Iddy's district partner, Latila. She sways her hips purposely and gives Cadman a little smile as she leaves. I look at him but can't decipher if he notices.

Time moves both too fast and agonizingly slow as we wait to face what's on the other side of the door. Part of me wants it to be over, to have already shown myself to the Gamemakers and have my score. Another part wishes I had another week left to work on my skill. Surely there must be something I could refine into a half decent talent to show them.

The boy from seven is called.

I swallow and it feels like acid dripping down my throat. I focus on breathing in and out, pushing my chest up and down in a steady beat. The song Cadman sang last night drifts into my head and I concentrate on it. Worries thread their way through the lyrics, weaving it into a warped hybrid of inspirational and panic inducing.

_Gonna build a mountain from a little hill  
>Gonna build me a mountain 'least I hope I will.<em>

What if I end up making a fool of myself?

_Gonna build a mountain._

What if I try and do something and they don't think it's impressive?

_Gonna build it high._

Or worse, what if they laugh?

_I don't know how I'm gonna do it.  
>I only know I'm gonna try.<em>

What am I doing here?

_Gonna build a daydream…_

Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!

"Hey," Cadman leans in and taps the end of my nose, "You're going to do fine, alright?"

"Right," I nod, swallowing hard. I try to push my terror back into the pit of my stomach.

"Well you could try relaxing your hold on the table then, I think you might have actually dented it."

I look down and notice how hard I'm gripping the plastic surface. Gingerly I relinquish my hold and untense my complaining fingers.

"There we go," he says and we go back into silence.

The girl from seven leaves.

Cadman drums his fingers against the table and stares off into the distance. He's next, then me. I wonder what he's thinking, if he's as heart-stoppingly panicked as I.

I trace mindless patterns on my thigh, letting my hands busy themselves. It's like back in school before a big test or waiting for your end of the month review at work but a thousand times worse. The worst part is always the waiting I remind myself. After that everything usually falls into place.

They call Cadman.

He gets up quickly and pats me on the shoulder as he leaves, giving me a look that clearly says not to worry. He seems so confident and I remember back to the reaping, when he swept effortlessly through the crowd. Nothing seems to faze this boy.

He's so much like Gauge that I get them confused in my head sometimes. Both sarcastic and teasing but watching out for others. Like ancient superheroes, taking responsibility in stride. I'm grateful I got a partner like him.

The clock overhead seems to be ticking through syrup. Time crawls as I wait in gnawing anticipation for my fate to be decided. All I can focus on is the ticking clock, counting it's seconds in time with my heartbeat.

I nearly don't notice when the man returns.

"District eight, female tribute."

My ears feel like they're plugged with cotton but the tightness in my chest disappears. I am suddenly ready to meet my fate.


	22. Chapter 22: Falling

Long ago, Gauge and I lay awake at night in our cramped room and stared at the ceiling together. Back then the air between our already battered beds carried stories of adventure, horror and fantasy, whatever we found interesting that day. He was always wonderful at spinning monsters out of thin air, weaving them in to battle a nearly invincible hero. Gauge always fell asleep soundly, long before tiredness would overtake me. I'd lie in the dark paralyzed, convinced that I could make out glowing pairs of villainous eyes staring at me, watching and waiting to strike.

That's how I imaged it would feel standing before the Gamemakers today. I expected something a tad more frightening, more menacing than the group before me.

They stare, vaguely interested; a table full of men and women, half gorging themselves, half judging my actions. Just ordinary people. Well, ordinary by Capitol standards. Not the monsters I've been constructing in my head but somehow that makes it worse. Like being human makes them more horrible.

I approach the climbing wall, already set up to a jagged rock wall. Perfect. I hook a rope around my shoulder and easily scale the surface, never slipping once.

They talk amongst themselves, barely noticing my attempts.

I lose myself in the process, concentrating on placing my hands and feet. I can't afford a mistake here.

At the top I stop, a twinge of fear and adrenaline snaking its way up from the pit of my stomach. Too late to turn back now.

Taking in a deep breath, I knot the rope around itself, making a hoop at the end. About five feet away from me hangs the climbing rope, meant to emulate jungle vines. Perfect. I roll up on the ball of my foot and toss my lasso, catching it on the hook that secures the other rope.

Another breath, can't back down now. I wipe my sweaty palms on the end of my shirt and bite my lip.

I jump.

Air whips past me, gently lifting my hair as I sail high above the ground. I can't remember the last time I felt this way. Some combination of fear, exhilaration and freedom electrifies my skin. I nearly lose myself in flight.

My hand slips.

Crap. Crap crap crap.

I slip an inch.

I clench my legs tight around the rope, holding on desperately with my whole body. A fall from this height wouldn't injure me, it would snap my neck.

The other rope whizzes past my face at an alarming rate and I remember what I'd been trying to do. I swing back, twisting to get a good look at my target.

My hands slip another inch.

With a sinking stomach I realize what's going to happen. The angle I'm swinging at is too wide, I'll miss every time I go to reach for it and I don't have time to experiment with that.

A plan suddenly forms in my head. I know I'll only have window of a few seconds where I can make the move. Fighting against ever survival instinct inside of me I let go of the rope as I swing past my hanging salvation once more.

I fall.

As I careen towards the floor can see myself flattened against the mat, my neck askew at an unnatural angle, dead the second I hit the ground. What would happen I wonder? Would they admit it to the public or claim it was suicide, the cowards' way out? Would they even mention it or let it hang in the air, never revealing to my family back home exactly how I'd died.

They'd never know how I would have done in the games, never get to see me even one last time on the cramped screen of our television back home.

None of that if I can't reach the cord ahead of me. I stretch out my arm but am still unable to gain purchase.

This is it I suppose. The moment when I die, showing off to a bunch of important Capitol people and messing up beyond belief.

I keep falling, trapped between the safety I let go of a few mere seconds ago and the unobtainable salvation in front of me.


	23. Chapter 23: An Afternoon

My outstretched hands finally brush the rope and I latch on like metal drawn up to a magnet. The cord burns my hands I slide down, twisting around before I stop but I'm safe.

After a short moment to catch my breath, I shimmy down the rest of the rope and touch my feet to the floor. I work hard to keep my body from shaking as I face the judging panel of the Gamemakers.

They look like they've been frozen. One man has a forkful of noodles trapped halfway towards his mouth. A woman looks like she'd been in mid sip when she suddenly stopped, the bright red liquid in her glass still at her lips.

I swallow, worrying I've done something wrong. Maybe almost killing yourself is a big no in Gamemakers' sessions.

Each pair of eyes is set on me as I stay planted to the middle of the room. Something inside me tells me to show off some other skill, to prove my usefulness in other areas but edible inset identifying or knot tying would seem anticlimactic following my accidental death defying.

One of the men clears his throat as he breaks out of the trance. His moustache climbs up into sideburns, lending the impression that his eyes are poking out of a mask of black hair.

"Well… that was certainly… enlightening" I've never seen a Capitol citizen so at loss for words and I again question the intelligence of my actions. Have I just earned myself a lowered training score?

Another woman pipes up, her long tapered fingers lowering her silver fork."Is there anything else you'd like to show us?"

"Uhm…" I hesitate, unsure if it's customary for the Gamemakers to speak or if this woman's trying to encourage me to show off something else, anything else. But I'm not sure I can hold my hands steady long enough to demonstrate so I shake my head.

"You may go then" utters the first man.

I scurry the room without another word, relieved to be freed of the weight of their gazes. Cadman waited for me outside the door and he smiles as I exit. We walk down the hallway in a comfortable silence and he takes my hand in his lightly. It feels right, like walking home from school with Gauge and running to work with Kilim. Cadman isn't like Gauge or Kilim though and I feel differently towards him than I ever have to my brother or my best friend. I'm not sure how to define it, safe maybe? Understood?

Whatever it is, feelings should be the last thing on my mind. Tonight our training scores will be broadcast throughout all of Panem. Each of our standing's from 1-12 combined with other aspects such as strength, weapon of choice, whether or not we'll cry, how long we'll last, will be bet upon in each of the various districts. I wonder idly what my ratio is, whether even the people back home have the heart to put the odds in my favour. I don't generally associate myself with those so cynical as to bet money on the Games but I know of them and I've seen them before. Even my brother and I would make bets between each other, never real stakes like money or food but small things like who would do the dishes or who got the bathroom first. It helped remove some of the inhumanity of it, helped release us a bit for the horrors to be focused if an alliance held or what the arena would be like. We never bet against our own district though, we couldn't with the very real possibility of us knowing the tribute. One of Gauge's old classmate's had been reaped a last year, they weren't friends but had known each other. My brother ignored our tributes that year, concentrating strongly on the shaky, overdramatic career pack. The girl didn't even make it past the blood bath.

Our district has had so few victors that it's hard to imagine one of our tributes actually winning. When I was a kid, nine or ten, someone made it to the final eight and there was all this talk about him maybe winning. Everyone got more excited than I've ever seen, whispering that this could be the year we finally bring someone home, that for once district eight was going to be victorious. It just hit so much harder when he was taken out by a rogue remaining career later.

When we reach our floor the doors ping open to reveal a pacing Cecelia and a sleep looking Woof propped up in a folding chair. They both look up at us abruptly as we withdraw from the glass elevator.

"How was it?" Cecelia starts nervously.

Cadman drops my hand and steps towards our mentors. "It was… fine? Won't know how we did until tonight right?"

Woof goes to lift himself out of his chair, he holds out his hand and I take it, gently helping the old man to his feet. "Yes I suppose" he murmurs.

"But how do you think you did?" Cecelia asks again, clearly wanting us to spill what had gone on in our sessions.

We go through the doors into the living room and sit on the rectangle couches where Villard is already waiting. Cadman sinks into the silvery leather and rests his head against the low back and I sit next to him. With everyone's eyes on us I feel a bit like I did a few minutes ago with the Gamemakers.

"So?" Villard raises his thin eyebrows at me. "What exactly did you show them?"

"Well…" I go over my session in my head and feel embarrassed. Nearly killing myself seems like such a dumb move now.

"I threw some knives," Cadman answers without looking at anyone. "Started a fire. Indentified some plants on the simulator."

Everyone nods their heads at him, a perfectly normal response. I swallow as they shift their collective gaze to me.

"I uhm… I climbed then I… swung on the ropes…"

Villard looks at me incredulously. "That's all? I have got to have the two most boring tributes in the entire games! Where's the flair? Where's the oomph? I'm having a hard enough time selling you to sponsors without you being so terribly boring that no one cares!"

"Calm down Villard!" Woof counters from his arm chair beside the couch. "Survival skills are perfectly valid and useful in the games. They can't all be Finnick Odair."

I wish I could be Finnick. He won three years ago when he was just fourteen and the Capitol is still taken with him. Being a Career from four but also exceptionally good looking has gotten him in good with all the high officials here and I've heard that even President Snow holds him up on a pedestal.

Villard rolls his eyes at the old man and scoffs.

"Besides," Woof continues, "Johanna Mason? No one even saw her coming!"

I sit up at the mention of last year's victor. She'd used a strategy scarcely heard of before, feigning weakness then killing her opponents when they thought they were safe. She hadn't earned more than a four but came out on top, hiding her axe wielding skills until the time was right. If I could be like her, all the better! But climbing and plant identifying are not the same as throwing axes.

Villard huffs and mutters something about having to con the sponsors again but I tune him out. Let him sort out his own problems.

Cecelia reaches over and rests her hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before patting me and asking what I want to do with the rest of the afternoon. Training results won't be revealed until this evening. I ask if we can't just relax for awhile and we're allowed to. Woof and Cecelia go off to meet with our designers and Villard vanishes, presumably to complain about us to the other escorts but I don't mind. Being a pain in his side is too much fun.

Cadman and I hang out in the living room for awhile, flipping through all the stations the Capitol has to offer but we soon get bored. Everything is Hunger Games this and tributes that. It's bizarre, hearing them talking and mentioning my name among the list. Like it can't really be me they're talking about.

Cadman invents a game where we have to guess the topic at hand before we flip to a random channel. At first we guess logical things, like interview outfits or training scores but it quickly gets out of hand.

"Superpowers the tributes may or may not possess!" Cadman yells as he flicks a button on the remote. The screen fills with a cat-like woman chatting away about this year's panel of Gamemakers.

I grab the controller from his hands and holler "The possibility of one of the tributes turning out to be a water buffalo!"

"A what?" Cadman asks breathlessly as he snatches the remote back.

"Some mythical animal I think. We covered it in school once…"

The man onscreen blathers on, "-And the latest polls are in. Most Capitol citizens hope Ceaser Flickerman's colour this year will be…"

"-Black like the hearts of the Gamemakers!"

I gasp at Cadman's brashness. Thinking harsh things against the Capitol is one thing but saying them aloud? And in their own city? That's asking for trouble.

"You don't mean that," I say, trying to make him put those words back into his mouth. Those are exactly the kinds of things my father would say and worry my mother.

We stare at each other for a moment, locked in an unspoken conversation. I try to plead with him through my eyes; try to get him to see how that kind of talk terrifies me. It may be true but saying it out loud can only result in suffering.

He looks away and I am relieved. "No. I guess I don't."

We watch the screen in silence, letting the dull Capitol chatter overtake our heated moment. After awhile Cecelia comes and ushers us in to eat dinner.

"Right then," Villard chirps from the head of the table as he sets down his elegantly crafted spoon. "Ratings will go up soon."

"It'll be fine," Cecelia assures me, taking my napkin and folding it back beside my plate.

I look up at Cadman, trying to find some semblance of encouragement but he's concentrating deeply on twirling his noodles around his fork.

"We should go then," I say, turning away from my district partner. "Don't want to miss it."

"Pul-ease!" Villard scoffs, "They'll be recapping this all night. Couldn't miss it if you tried."

We get up, leaving our dishes for the attendants and settle into the living room. Cadman sits beside me but remains quiet. I hug my knees against my chest as Cecelia activates the screen.

The seal of Panem blazes across the black background then fades to reveal the lengthy frame of Seneca Crane, the head Gamemakers. He leans against a neat desk and smiles at the camera from an angle, offering up a three quarter profile.

"Good evening," he purrs, turning to face us completely, "And welcome. It's been two weeks since the reapings and our tributes have been working around the clock to improve themselves to make this year's games more interesting than ever. Now let's see how they scored."


	24. Chapter 24: Numbered

I bite my lip hard as the faces start to appear.

A ten for the boy from one, no shocker there, careers rarely get below a 9. His district partner scores a nine but I can't imagine how she earned it. In training she always seemed more focused on gaining the attention rather than skills.

Nora's face shines with charisma down at us, followed by a respectable seven.

Quinira, the impish tribute from three scores a five. Her photo makes me kind of sad, seeing her youthful face in contrast to her much older, stronger counterparts. I'm fairly sure her whole body could fit inside of the shoe of the massive district one volunteer.

The two careers from four predictably earn a nine and an eleven.

There's Iddy, with a mischievous glint in his eye as he smirks at the camera. He gets an eight.

Three more faces and numbers and then it's Cadman.

He looks earnestly out at us, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. The camera is facing him head on but somehow he gives the impression of being above the shot, looking far off into something we can't see. I sneak a sideways glance at the same boy sitting beside me, fixated on the television screen. He's only a year older than me but somehow there seems to be wisdom settled into his bones. He holds himself differently from other teenagers, more erect and confident like an old statue that's been weathered by time but never stooping while he watches humans pass him, looking on in awe.

On screen, his face is replaced with a large yellow number. An eight.

An eight!

Woof whoops and Cecelia claps her hands together, even Villard grins a little bit. Cadman jumps to his feet and pulls me up with him, twirling me so fast my feet don't touch the ground.

"Wonderful!" Cecelia cheers.

"But Angora down huh?" warns Villard half-heartedly from his perch on the rounded armchair, "You're liable to break her before we even see her score."

He's right; already my face has faded in place of Cadman's eight and he gingerly puts me back on the ground.

"Sorry," he mutters but his beaming face betrays his bashfulness.

"S'alright," I smile as I reclaim my spot and stare eagerly at my glowing face on the panel before me. Part of me is dying for to know my rank and another wants there to be some way I'd never have to find out. There's no chance I've been awarded anything spectacular but even a five or six would be worth something. The clawing worry that's been building in the pit of my stomach all afternoon tears at me and transfixes my eyes on the television.

Slowly my face gives way to a glowing yellow number.

Nine.

A nine.

The silence that blanketed us moments ago erupts into energized cheers.

"Gora!" Cadman shouts as he shoots up again, "Gora a nine!" He laughs and whoops, jumping into the air and pumping his fist. Cecelia reaches over and squeezes my shoulder then gently pushes me up into Cadman's open arms. He hugs me so tight he's liable to crush me and I don't mind, not sure how much air would be getting to my brain anyways. A nine! They thought I'd merited a nine even after what I was sure to be my undoing!

"Well," our escort clasps his hands together, "It seems you didn't screw up nearly as bad as you thought."

"Yeah, yeah Villard we know you're proud of us too," Cadman shoots back while still smiling wildly at me. I feel light and free and able to do anything at this moment.

We all laugh as he rolls his eyes and smirks then Cecelia mentions the big day we have before us tomorrow.

Woof starts to get up from his armchair. "Right. Why don't you kids go rest now huh?"

Cadman releases me and we hug everyone, enjoying another rush of congratulations before we head through the doors and down the hallway to our rooms. The silence returns but I check his face and his beefing from ear to ear so I decide it's safe to start a conversation.

"Wild huh?" I offer, sneaking another glance up at his face.

"Crazy. I was just thinkin' about the last few tributes from our district and I can't remember a single one scoring as high as we did," we stop at the end of the hall and he stares down at me with his soft brown eyes, "We have a chance in this Gora."

"We really do," I agree, happy that whatever animosity started up this afternoon is gone now. I glance towards my door and ask, "You want to come in?"

"Sure," he grins and follows me into the well kept Capitol room. We sit on the edge of the bed at ease with each other.

"So…" he starts, "Tell me something."

I smile as we start that old game again. "Uhm… I'm ridiculously happy about our scores?"

"Yeah," he laughs, "You think?"

"Okay you go then. Tell me something."

"Well I've been thinking…"

"A rare occurrence," I tease.

He cocks his eyebrow at me and grins, "You're hilarious Gora. But I've been thinking you know? About alliances?"

I swallow hard unsure of where he's going with this. The two of us are already an ironclad team aren't we? Is he beginning to think differently?

"Well I figure we should talk about them yeah? Because I was trying to remember the non Careers from previous years and the only ones I can remember making it far were the ones who travelled in packs."

"And you think the two of us aren't enough?" I ask, unsure of what he's saying.

"Do you?"

I think about it. Working with the other tributes seems like such a better option than being by ourselves but it could be dangerous. Of course that would depend on who we chose to ally up with.

"I think maybe a few extra people couldn't hurt…"

He smiles, "It's not carved in stone or anything. I just wanted to run that by you."

"Of course! But who would we pick?" I wonder, running through the tributes in my head. There's Iddy of course, but he and Cadman are cool towards each other at best. And Nora from two! In training her knife throwing skills practically rivalled the Careers. I'd love to have Quinira too, to protect her sweetness but selling her might be hard.

"We can think it over. All we really need is to tell Cecelia and Woof so they can talk to the other mentors."

"Right," I nod, "Hey Cadman?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favour? Can we just… Not talk about the games? For one night?"

"Sure sunshine. How about…food! Man I could spend the rest of my life eating that one pie we had last night, with the little berries? Ohhhh," he tips back his head and groans, "And the pancakes! I don't think I've ever tasted anything like them!"

"The best though are totally the fruits! Those long ones with the yellow skins that you peel off? They're so mushy and sweet! I've never actually had fruit that didn't come in a preserve and it's so much better!"

"I have," Cadman says in a voice I almost don't hear.

I laugh, thinking he's joking, "Oh yeah? Where?"

When he doesn't reply I look up at him, he's staring down at the carpet hard. "Cadman? What's wrong? Did I-"

"It's not you Gora…"

"Then what?"

"It's… Look there's something I haven't told you."

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion, "Okay… what?"

He sighs then bites his lip as he looks at me.

"It's about my parents."

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><p><strong>Hey folks, just me, you're friendly neighborhood writer again. Do me a favor? Review and stuff 'kay? Makes my day!<strong>


	25. Chapter 25: Understand

Cadman's face has set into a neutral mask as he continues to stare at the carpet.

"Your parents?" I repeat cautiously.

"You remember how I said we lived with our Gran?"

I nod, it was one of the only things he'd shared about his family. Living with other relations was common in our district though. So many lives get cut short due to the harsh conditions or the epidemics that sweep through periodically that living without parents is a common occurrence. Usually families try to take in their own kin in those situations, rather than let them go to the underfunded and horribly managed community homes.

"We didn't always. We had parents to take care of us once, Calla and I."

His voice is measured but I can hear the rumble of anger below the surface.

"Our father was a dreamer, visionary if you want to call it that. He's rant about how it's the division of the people that held us back and the Capitol in power. He was convinced that if the districts could just band together like in the dark days but with more order, more stability, we could change Panem. He wanted a new world order where freedom and justice would rule instead of tyranny and the survival of the Capitol.

He convinced our mother and she was just as adamant about the cause as he was. They were quite the pair, rebellious and freethinking. They joined up with this underground movement and called themselves the Liberation. It stretched to every corner of Panem, with people working in every district completely secretly.

They would leave Calla and I with our grandmother and disappear for days, giving no hint as to where they were going. They always told us the less we knew the better and we understood the best we could. Nights we'd lay awake and talk about what our parents might be doing that moment. In all our imaginings they were always in exciting adventure, dancing just out of the Capitol's long reaching fingers. We'd been raised to question authority and to fight back so we saw our parents as heroes rather than questioning why they weren't there for us. Even as children we understood the cause was more important.

They'd return from these missions with small gifts, a seashell from four, some bark from seven, gifts from worlds we had never seen. Panem is so much bigger than our district Gora! It's all full of people and places we can barely imagine stuck in the urban confines of district eight. So much beauty and life that we can never experience."

We're both silent for a long moment and I take the time to study the boy beside me. He smiles a little, gazing off into the distance like he so often does. I understand his feeling of entrapment; I felt it too back home. The towering buildings don't lend themselves easily to escape.

"So what happened?" I whisper, not wanting to break his happy trance but needing to know.

He takes a breath. "One day, they didn't come back. Sure they'd been late before but never like this. Weeks went by and we waited and waited but nothing. They were gone and we had no way of knowing what happened or if they were even still alive. Just… gone. Our grandmother took us in officially and we stayed, never really knowing if they'd ever come back."

"Oh… Cadman…" I reach out and close the short distance between us, placing my arm across his strong shoulders. His story is so much more tragic than I could have imagined.

He stays still, "We were still kids when it happened. Calla was only five and I was thirteen. Four years have gone by without any word about them. I can't… I can't…"

His long frame shivers as Cadman's works cut off. I bite lip as I watch the boy who's always seemed so confident crumple in my arms. Two tears roll down his face but he catches them before they get very far.

"That's why," his whispers in a raspy voice, "That's why I hate the Capitol so much. They took my parents."

I can't think of anything to say so I nod, unable to comprehend the sorrow he must feel. I may be going into the Games but at least my family is still complete at home. I've never had to lose them as Cadman's lost his.

"Probably why I got reaped too. They say it's random but that's hard to believe. The son of two prominent rebels picked? Seems a bit too convenient."

"I'm sorry Cadman," I offer hugging him close.

His face picks up into the hint of a smile, "Oh Gora. It's not your fault. Knowing you's pretty much the only good thing that's come out of this."

I look away, trying to hide my blush.

Cadman laughs, "Silly girl. Look I'm sorry for the whole sob story y'know? I just thought… It was good to talk about. For me at least. Awe don't give me that look! I can deal."

I smile and gently remove my arms from his torso. "No, I'm glad you told me. I'd rather know."

"Alright, just don't get all sappy on me now huh?" he looks up at the clock, "Awe man! Is that the time? We've got to get to bed sunshine. Can't be lookin' sleep deprived for our interviews tomorrow."

I grimace, "Right, do we really have to do that?"

"'Fraid so. Don't worry though, you'll be fine," he stands and smiles at me before kissing me on the forhead, "Goodnight Gora."

"Night Cadman," I yawn.

He walks out and closes the door behind him as I crawl beneath the covers. I drift off to sleep quickly but dream vigorously about running from some unseen force but never being able to look back. Sometime in the early morning I give up on sleep and just stare at the ceiling, waiting for day to come.

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><p><strong>Crazy huh? Gora's not even in the arena yet and things are heating up. As always if you'd like to do me a huge favor and review and whatnot my love will be forever yours! Hearts!<strong>


	26. Chapter 26: New Allies

Along the shadowy jungle floor I wander by the silvery light of the moon, gracefully sliding between the thick tree trunks and under the low hanging vines without a hitch or misplaced step. Everything is beautiful and shimmery, like it's just been sprinkled with sweet, summery dew. The air is peppered with the distant sounds of foreign birds calling out to each other in the balmy night.

The mossy ground gives a little as I pause to part the dark curtain of vines before me. Behind them is a sparkling, silver waterfall pooling at the base of some collection of cliffs. Silently I shimmy out of my blue dress and leave it unceremoniously in a pile next to my shoes. Exposed but unafraid I wade into the mysterious waters and let them cool my jungle warmed skin.

I dive, emerging myself completely into their gentle embrace and as I come up a laugh escapes me. Floating along the top of the pool, I can study the vast web of stars cast overhead like a child's blanket painstakingly weaved with love and care by their mother. Everything is peaceful and quite, like not even the thought of harm has ever occurred in this place.

A familiar voice breaks the serene silence.

"May I join you?" Cadman asks from the edge of the bank, his body seems to be illuminated from within as he enters the water and swims towards me.

"It's so beautiful," I sigh staring back up at the sky.

He glides closer and holds out his hands, "Not as beautiful as you." He pulls me close to him and stares into my eyes with a slight smile playing on his lips. Our faces drift closer and closer until finally-

"Angora?" Cecelia pulls my out of my haze gently. I look up from the peaches I've been pushing around my bowl to find the rest of the table staring at me with expressions ranging from concern to contempt.

I sit up in my chair and bite my lip, fighting the blush I know must be spreading across my cheeks.

"We were talking about alliances honey."

"Yes," snorts Villard, "If we could just have a moment of conversation before you drift off again, that'd be lovely."

Embarrassed I drop my gaze. How could I let my mind wander like that during such an important discussion? Silently I reprimand myself and resolve to focus.

Cecelia delves back into the conversation, "So you're thinking the girl from two?"

"Yeah," Cadman, "She's smart and friendly."

"A little small don't you think," pipes up Villard again from the head of the table, "I mean shouldn't you be looking to team up with bigger and better?"

"She's no smaller than me," I retort glaring at him.

"Well I think-"

"Her knife throwing's excellent," continues Cadman, ignoring our escort.

"Ah, an offensive skill," Woof comments, "Useful."

"Angora?" Cecelia raises her eyebrow at me questioningly.

I smile, trying to make up for the rudeness Villard incited. What is it about that man that brings out the worst in me? "I'd really like her as an ally."

My mentor nods curtly, "Alright then the girl from two. Anyone else?"

I press my lips together but Cadman replies.

"The boy from six."

Surprised, I look up at my fellow tribute. Did I really just hear him suggest Iddy? In every conversation we've had about the other tributes Cadman's made it very clear that he doesn't trust the boy so why would he suggest him as an ally? I study his face but can make out no hint of joking in his tone as he adds, "He's good at foraging and plant identification. If the arena's anything like the past few years knowing the right things to eat will be crucial. Gora and I've both studied it but we're still liable to make mistakes, especially if that's what the Gamemakers are counting on."

"Smart," Cecelia agrees as she shares a look with Woof, "That's all then?"

Cadman turns his gaze to me so I answer. "I think so."

"Great then," Cecelia stands, pushing her chair back in as she speaks, "Now today is dedicated to prepping you for your interviews tomorrow. Woof and I have to go meet with your stylists but you two stay here."

They leave and Cadman grins at me. "Free time?"

We start to stand when Villard pipes up lazily from his still seated position. "Not so fast little ones."

"But Woof and Cecelia said they had to go…"

"Ah," he drawls in that annoying Capitol accent of his, "But even though your mentors are away there's still work to be done. Both of you sit. I'll be instructing you on this part of your prep."

I groan as I take my seat, this is not going to end well.

* * *

><p>Hey folks, sorry for the long wait for this chapter but I'll be updating again soon! Thanks for all the lovely reviews and please keep 'em comin'! I love to hear what you guys think of everything that's going on and get your suggestions!<p> 


	27. Chapter 27: Definition

I grimace as Villard shrieks my name for the thousandth time. "Angora! Cross your legs at the ankles! The ankles! Why is that so hard to understand!"

I sneak a glance at Cadman sitting beside me on chairs dragged down from the dining room. Since our mentors left us in his hands two hours ago, Villard's been nothing but a pain. Even Cadman, who he clearly favours, has been screeched at.

"Now," he begins again, pacing between the two of us with his chest puffed up. With his absurd strut and pinched face, he has the impression of a chicken wandering around a barn yard. "Angora, tell me once more about your family."

Externally I smile brightly but internally I roll my eyes. We've gone through so many questions that I can barely stand to repeat the same mindless answers anymore. "I lived with both my parents and brother back in district eight."

There's a pause as Villard stares at me incredulously. "I don't even know why I bother," he spins theatrically, waving his arms about, "I try and I try to work with that I'm given and there is no help! Not any assistance whatsoever."

"In all fairness, that was a perfectly fine answer," Cadman defends as he shifts in his chair. I can see he's just as tired as I with our so called interview prep.

Our escort whips around and glares at him. "A fair answer? A FAIR AWNSER? She is giving me absolutely nothing! There's nothing exciting, nothing sexy or intriguing or memorable about a _fair_ _answer_! I might as well have a pair of dumb tributes for all the help I'm getting from you two."

"Calm down Villard," calls a measured voice from behind me. I whip around to see our two mentors standing in the doorway. Cecelia looks shocked and Woof's face is set in a grim mask. They walk carefully towards us, Woof more alert than I've ever seen him. The old man stalks right up to his younger, Capitol counterpart and stares him down.

"You don't understand Woof. I know when you won the Games, interviews weren't so important but today they're intensely vital to-"

"I know how important interviews are Villard. Might I remind you that I have had a few more years at the Games than you have and I know exactly how they work. That being said I also know how tributes work. Yelling will not make them learn anything, teaching them will."

There's a tense moment as the two glare at each other but Woof stands his ground. Finally Villard looks away and the battle is over.

"I think your work here is done," the elderly man continues, "Why don't you go scare up some sponsors for these fine kids? Cecelia and I will take it from here."

Amazingly, Villard does leave, though not without an outraged huff and scowl. As the angry clicking of his boots recedes down the hall, Cadman and I share a disbelieving look.

"I may be an old man but I still know how to treat people," concludes Woof, "Now let's start on your interviewing shall we? Show us what's gotten him all up in a twist."

The rest of the day goes much smoother, with our mentors preparing us in every possible way for our interviews tomorrow. It's decided that Cadman will play up his boyish good looks and natural all around goodness to the audience. When it comes to deciding something for me, they have me stand in the center of the room while Woof and Cecelia stare at me. I try not to feel nervous but the weight of their gazes throws me off balance. Finally, without a word, the nod to one another and I'm allowed to relax.

"Earthy," Woof exclaims, "I think. With a sort of…."

"Imaginative quality," Cecelia continues, "Fragile but with a strong core."

I look between my two mentors, searching for some meaning behind their words. "I'm sorry what?"

Woof cocks his head, as if struggling for the words. "You're very… romantic,"

"Idealistic, intangible…" Cecelia reaches, still smiling at me.

"What?" I ask, more confused about their decision. How can these words relate to me?

Cadman sees I'm floundering and jumps into the conversation. "Come on now Gora, you've got to have some idea of yourself."

"I…I've never really thought about it." It's true, defining myself had never been a complicated issue for me. I've always just been Gora.

"You have this… dreamy quality to you," Cecelia tries again.

"So how're you saying I should behave?" I ask, a bit apprehensive. None of these words sound particularly strong, not like the ones they used for Cadman.

"That's the beauty of it sweetheart, it's not that much of a stretch for you. All you need to do is relax and let the audience see you."

"Relax?"

"You'll figure it out. Now, off to bed the two of you," she shoos, "Your stylists will have a fit if you look tired for tomorrow."

We go without complaint, joking as we leave the room. Tomorrow's our last chance to help decide our fate before we enter the arena and I feel nauseous just thinking about what that means. I remember a tribute from a while ago who just froze up during his interview. Clammed out and wouldn't say a word until the bell rang and he left the stage. Later, he died of thirst in the arena, his mentors unable to get sponsor money to help him out. That could be me if the audience decides they don't like me.

Cadman and I stop, just outside our doors.

"We really should probably sleep," he starts, "Can't upset the stylists."

I laugh and turn towards my room.

"Gora," he calls, I pivot again to face him. "You really don't need to worry. About tomorrow I mean. They'll love you."

Without giving me a chance to reply he's gone, already closing the door behind him.


	28. Chapter 28: Backstage

"And did you see what he wore on the feeds last night? Simply dreadful when that pin came loose and the whole thing came undone on live television!"

"Ghastly! Can you even imagine?"

"But did you get a good look at his wife's face at the back? Never mind him, it was her expression that really put me over the edge-"

Flitting around me like a collection of chirping, trained birds, my prep team finishes up my look for the evening. Their mindless banter hums in the background, like the whirring of the weaving machines back home. I close my eyes for a short time, trying to tune out the incessant chatter when one distinctive shrill voice rises above the others.

"That's it, that's it," coos Villard as he makes his way over to the chair I'm helplessly trapped to. Even if I tried to make a run for it, I wouldn't get far with my hair in Evander's hands. The man's been pulling and twisting for the better part of an hour and even trying not to fidget, my scalp's gone numb.

"What do you want Villard," I ask annoyed, hoping beyond hope that he'll just leave me in peace for once. Of course he doesn't.

"Checking up on you," he sneers, "Though your manners may be, well, unpolished at best, that doesn't mean you can't look the part of a prepared tribute. And besides, maybe if they use enough makeup, the audience'll be distracted enough no to hear whatever rubbish comes out of your mouth."

Though it causes me pain, I roll my eyes. "Thanks for the inspiring speech."

"But really," he sighs, flexing his fingers and examining his no doubt spotless nails, "I'm meant to come apologize to you. It seems I may have hurt," pause while he rolls his eyes upwards and sighs once more, "your feelings."

I'm shocked. Could this really be an apology? From Villard? My honest to goodness Capitol escort is showing some semblance of guilt? For hurting my feelings!

"Uhm… well thanks, I guess," there is no way to answer him without sounding awkward.

"Well don't get too excited about it," he smirks, "It's really just to get your mentors off my back. Those two are such bores when it comes to 'the treatment of the tributes'." He pulls a face as he recites the line that no doubt came from Cecelia and Woof. Those two are really the best mentors Cadman and I could have gotten, though they may be a little older, they're human. That's not something I can say for some of the other mentors I've seen.

Villard turns and exits the room, calling back to my prep team to "ease up on the eye shadow, she looks like she's bruised!"

Another few hours in the chair and I finally pass inspection. Lee enters with a large garment bag draped over her arm. After studying me for some time she finally unzips it and pulls the dress over my head before I get a good look at it. My fingers travel the dainty fabric as she finishes the zipper at the back then I'm spun around to stare into the mirror.

Again, I'm stunned by the girl reflected back at me. Her hair's been done up in uniform spiralling curls and frames her heart shaped face perfectly. The skin, eyes and lips all glow just the teensiest bit with some sort of internal light, like a lone candle shining in a black night. I raise my left hand up and she copies with her right, a surprised smile crossing both of our faces. The dress is the best part, made of a cream lace that seems too delicate to touch without gloves. It ends just below her knees and clings in all the right places. I can't stop staring at the intricate fabric, trying to imagine the hours and hours it would take to get each stitch just right. There's a lump in my throat as I turn back to Lee, wanting to thank her with every inch of my being for doing this for me but she just nods, a satisfied grin spreading across her tattooed face.

"Thank you," I whisper, desperate not to tear up. She's made me more beautiful than I could have hoped and given me a chance to be noticed tonight. Like Villard said, maybe if I try hard not to screw up, the audience will be too awed by my appearance to notice.

"You're welcome," she replies in a hushed voice. With another long look at her work, she steps back and tells me it's time.

Crap. I balls my hands into fists as my stylist leads me through the door and into a narrower hallway. Finally Lee stops before a doorway, telling me she'll be watching from the front row.

"You'll be great kid," she reassures me, smoothing the folds of the dress, "Just relax."

I give her the bravest smile I can then enter the room where a line of tributes is waiting. I step in place behind the large district seven tributes and try to calm myself down, feeling the anxiety rise in my stomach. I close my eyes and swallow, concentrating on breathing from deep within my body but a tingle of fear and worry still plays across my skin.

Out, in. Out, in.

The nervous buzz of the other tributes floods my ears and I feel like I'm going to pass out. Still clenching my eyes shut I focus on calming myself down when there's a tap on my shoulder and a low chuckle.

I open my eyes, expecting Cadman to be there but find Iddy instead!

"You looked like you were going to have a heart attack," he grins. His stylist has dressed him up nicely, in a navy blazer and bright orange shirt but his smile makes him look boyish.

"Just… breathing…" I admit sheepishly.

Another laugh. "If that's how you breathe it's a wonder you don't pass out!"

I roll my eyes at him and quip back, "Why're you over here anyways? Shouldn't you be with your _district partner_?"

He turns to catch Latila glaring at his back. With a loud huff she purposefully crosses her arms and throws herself into conversation with the boy tribute from four.

Iddy's voice drops down and adopts a conspiring tone, "Awe, she's just jealous. It's not like she got invited to join your super exclusive alliance."

"Right! So Cecelia and Woof talked to your mentors about it?"

"They did. And Nora's too. We're all going to have dinner up on your floor tonight, if that's okay with you I mean…"

"Sounds perfect I-"

"Iddy!" calls a voice from behind me. I turn my head slightly and see Cadman approaching from the corner of my eye. His brown hair's been styled into waves that part to the side and bounces a bit as he walks towards us. The dark red of his button down is striking against the subtle tan of his skin and he somehow seems taller though he can't have grown since I saw him a few hours ago.

"Just the man I wanted to see" Cadman continues as he comes closer and slaps the other boy on the back. "How're you tonight?" His wide smile confuses me Cadman's never shown anything but distaste for the boy from six.

"Uhh… Not too bad man. Not too bad… I'm gonna head on back over there though… Starting soon. Gora, see you tonight?"

"Of course," I smile.

"See you," Cadman calls as Iddy leaves.

I turn back to my suddenly strange district partner, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, what was that?"

"What?" he pulls an innocent look. "Can't I be friendly?"

"Well yeah but… You usually aren't. Well not to Iddy I mean."

"Ah, that," his fake, odd looking smile melts off his face. "I figured I'd better get over it y'know? Seeing how we're going to be allies and all…"

"Right. That. You're okay with that huh? I meant to ask but…" I trail off, leaving the sentence hanging between us. Cadman's sudden acceptance of Iddy was abrupt at best and I'm still confused about it.

"Of course I am Gora," his face softens and there's a flash of his real smile. "I knew you'd want to join up with him and we're in this together aren't we?"

"Yeah," I trail off, caught by the way the bright lights shine in his dark eyes.

"So whoever you want, I'll link up with them. Unless you want to get rid of me of course."

I let out a startled laugh at his statement. Could he seriously be worried about that?

"No need to fear," I say as I reign myself in a bit, "We're a team."

"A team," he repeats as his warm smile spreads across his face. "Well teammate, looks like it's time."

He points behind my shoulder and I turn to see a large Capitol man hushing the tributes ahead of us. The large metal doors open and I can hear the cheering crowd behind them. The music pulses steadily as the first two file through the door and the cheering swells. Without another word exchanged, I grab Cadman's hand in mine as our line slowly advances out of the darkness and into the eyes of Panem.


	29. Chapter 29: The World Is Watching

I am blind, walking into a wall made of pure bright light and sound. They scream and whistle as we cross the raised stage, but all I can make out is the platform ahead of me and Cadman beside me, squinting into the same brilliant lights.

We file past the raised stage where our interviewer sits, Caeser Flickerman. Painted in a shimmering silver, he smiles and waves out to the crowd like an ancient god greeting his followers. Their whistles and roars rebounding off the tall buildings surrounding us.

"Welcome," he calls out as he rises to his feet, palms outstretched. A hush falls over the Capitol audience as they sit on the edges of their seats."Welcome once again, to the Interview portion of… the Hunger Games!"

They go wild and he takes his seat once more. The crowd seems so much bigger than it did on television and so much more animated. How Caeser can manipulate them so well is beyond me.

He gestures and again they settle down, holding onto every word he says.

"Shall we meet them then?" he asks in a conspiring tone.

Again they cheer.

"Well then lets!" The Capitol man launches himself out of his chair to greet his first guest, the girl from district one who flicker her hair over her shoulder and grants the audience a half smile.

They go on, each working some angle. Nora, in her tight purple dress, is bold, talking about her friends and their adventures together. She tells a story about making a rope to swing between the trees that line her district and they eat it up, gasping collectedly as she recounts the time a knot began unravelling while she was suspended by it.

Iddy as them rolling in the isles as he jokes with the interviewer, giving his commentary on some of the other tributes and mentors for this year's games. He goes on about how every girl in Panem's got to be in love with Finnick Odair, the recent victor out of four and sighs comically, staring right into the box where the mentors oversee the interviews.

"Though of course, the ladies will be swooning over you if you win," quips Ceaser.

"Who's to say they aren't already," Iddy replies cocking an eyebrow and winking at some Capitol woman in the first row. The cameras zoom in on her as she faints and the crowd goes wild over his antics.

As the numbers count up to me I can feel the knot of dread building in my stomach once more. Searching desperately to calm myself down, I try to channel Zanella. Under these lights she'd shine, not wither like I'm afraid I might do. She'd gush and giggle and smile in all the right places, making these people love her the same way we all do back home.

Lost in my memory of my friend, I nearly miss the buzzer that sounds, signaling time's up for the boy from seven. Suddenly the lights are back to blinding me and I gulp, mind blank as I make my way up to Ceaser Flickerman.

"And here, all the way from District Eight we have the lovely Angora Day!"

They clap and cheer but it's all incomprehensible to me. Squinting out into the crowd I can see a few signs with my face and district number on them bobbing along in the sea of people. I sit opposite the Capitol man on the stage. Everything about him seems so artificial, from the tips of his stark silver hair to the glittering rings on his long fingers.

The crowd settles down and my interview begins.

"Angora. Angora. Angora. Wonderful name for a wonderful girl. You know there's quite a buzz about you this year."

"Oh?" I answer, confused. Why would there be a buzz about me? District eight is never a really talked about district. All of the attention usually goes to the careers.

Caesar laughs. "Oh, she says. Oh! Yes darling there is! The mysteriously beautiful tribute from district eight who's gotten herself a train score of nine." He leans in, resting his pale chin on his hands as he smiles lazily like a cat in a sunbeam. "You have to understand you've piqued our interest. Tell me, how did you do it?"

I try not to let my fear of that question translate onto my face. I don't even know why my score was so high! Deciding to play with the mystery Caesar claims I have, I smile slightly and say, "Well you'll just have to wait and see what happens in the arena won't you?"

Again he laughs and launches into a new topic. "Okay then, how about you tell us about why you should win these games."

"Because I want to go home. I miss my family and my friends." I stare straight into the camera in front of me trying to send my message with my eyes as much as my mouth as I say, "You hear that guys? Mom? Dad? Gauge? I'll be home soon so keep the kettle on."

The audience laughs and Caesar gives them a moment before picking right back up again. "Wow that's heart warming isn't it folks? Well Angora we hope to see you heading back to them in a little while. Tell us about home. I'll bet the boys of district eight must be beating down your door."

How can I answer that? I laugh as my mind searches frantically to find the right response. Boys? The only two that come to mind are Cadman and Kilim but I can't say that. One I have no business thinking of as anything but an ally and the other I'll probably never see again. "Not so much" I reply honestly.

"No?" Caesar gasps. "I find that very hard to believe. Look at you! Look at her folks I mean I would kill for your hair." The capitol man reaches out one thin, pale hand and gives a tug to one of my ringlets. "They bounce! Honestly, they actually bounce!" I keep my smile pasted on my face as he fluffs my hair but internally I cringe. He's like an alien life form and I want to smack his clammy hands away from my neck. He goes on exclaiming about my face. "And those eyes! Tell me where I can get contacts like you have! "

"Contacts?" I ask. "Like addresses?"

Caesar laughs. "Like addresses! Isn't she just so precious? No they're pieces of plastic you put in your eyes to change their color."

I smile and nod but have no idea what he's talking about. Do these people actually put pieces of plastic into their eyes on purpose?

My interviewer allows me to sit again and I do. He has adopted a more serious air now.

" So, Angora…the games tomorrow. Are you nervous?"

"Terrified." Something inside my head sparks, " But you know what?" I say lean in, aiming for the most dramatic effect.

"What?" he plays along. I can feel the citizens of Panem sitting on the edge of their seats.

I stretch my smile wide and take a pause, looking out over the audience. This moment could be so crucial and I have to play it just right. Inside my head I can hear Zanella's voice coaching me, whispering for me to make them love me. I can almost hear her as I speak in a hushed tone that is heard all across Panem. "It makes me feel all the better to know you'll all be watching and cheering me on. All of you."

I mean the words I say, but not in the way these people think I do. I mean it for the ones I love back home and for the ones I have met hear. I mean it for my parents, for my brother, for my friends, for my mentors and my allies. I mean it for the people who will watch not for the spectical but because they love me. Though the crowd before me claps and whips themselves into a frenzy at my words, as I leave the stage I feel as though I am back in the calm, cool evening of district eight. I feel as if I sent a part of me home with the broadcast and if that's the only thing that comes out of all this then that's okay. They have heard me back home and I have given them everything I can.

Now if only I can preserve that will, I'll have a chance in the arena.

* * *

><p>Hey folks, sorry about the horrendous wait. Updates will reseume semi-normally now though so keep reading and let me know what you think!<p> 


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